The Red Sun
by margotdavid
Summary: When a visitor appears in Winterfell, a fourteen-years-old Jon Snow's life gets turns upside down, as he discovers his true parentage, as well a shocking secret in the form of one Rhaenys Targaryen.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 _Nine Moon of 295 AC_

 _Winterfell_

The Lord of Winterfell sat in his chambers working over a pile of paperwork that made him wish he was once again young and free of responsibilities, or at least free of the amount of paperwork his title required when a knock on the door stopped his writing.

"Enter."

Jory Cassel entered the room with a worried expression that put Eddard Stark immediately in alarm.

"What is wrong?"

"There is someone who wished to see you, my lord. A messenger. He seems to be here to deliver My Lord a message."

Ned Stark extended his hand to receive the said message, but Jory spoke instead, "the boy insisted that he would only give the message to my lord in a private audience."

The Lord gave at his castellan a confused look. That was most uncommon.

"Did he say who sent him with the message?"

Not even Robert would go through that much trouble. Whatever it was, it must be of most importance, and confidential. He did not like the sound of it.

"I don't believe he speaks much of the common tongue."

Ned Stark took a deep breath. He was getting more confused by the minute. "Send him in," he ordered.

The boy was actually older than he had presumed. He was around Robb's age, taller but skinnier than his son, with cropped jet-black curls, and a dark-brown skin that gave away the fact he was not Westerosi. He entered the room and bowed lowly as if Ned was the king instead of a lord. He looked so out of place that Ned felt some of the lord face, as his sons liked to call it, crumble. The boy was dressed in brown leathers and wool tunic with a green pattern that Ned had never seen. He carried no weapons on his body and didn't look very dangerous. In his hand was the letter. He was holding it close to his body, but it was visible to Ned from the desk.

"I have been told you carry a message." The big black eyes turned to Jory in questioning and back to Ned with more certainty. Ned understood the silent plea.

"Jory, you can leave us." The man followed Ned's order, closing the door behind him. "You carry a message from me," Ned spoke pointing to the boy's hand.

"Lord Stark?" He asked, with a thick and unfamiliar accent. It would be harder if he could not speak to the boy. Ned had little knowledge of any languages outside the common tongue, speaking only a few words of High Valyrian.

Ned pointed to his chest and spoke in a kind tone, "That's me. I am Lord Eddard Stark." That seemed to be enough, as the boy handed him the envelope. The Lord of Winterfell noticed the envelope was too heavy for something carrying only paper. When he opened it, a piece of jewelry fell onto the table, and Ned's body and heart froze as the ring rolled on the wood. Suddenly, he was back to his youth, a green boy, shy beyond his years, chasing after stars.

The necklace was white gold, a five-pointed star-shaped with white pearls decorating each triangle and an old diamond in the middle. Ned Stark knew that those pearls once decorated an old necklace gifted to her mother by his Lord Father as her wedding gift– the chain had long ago been out of use, but the pearls had endured and became an heirloom left by Lady Lyarra Stark to her sons. He knew that the old diamond belonged to set gifted to House Stark during the time of Lord Cregan Stark and that Ned had blushed from head to toe when he wrote to Winterfell from the Vale, to ask Lord Rickard Stark for one. Just like he knew he commissioned the gold star at Gulltown, in his youth, as a courting gift.

It had taken him some time, but he opened the letter with shaking hands, and he read the flourishing handwriting.

 _Dearest Ned,_

 _I shall not add your titles as this is a personal message and I see to reason to lie to the both of us by being fastidious courtly. I will not ask you about your life and affairs like a jealous lover or a courtly gossipmonger, I am neither._

 _I wish you no harm or distress, but I fear the last one will be nearby. I am not in any place you can find me in a matter of days. I am still across the ocean, and I feel safe to say, not anywhere close to the lands you call your own. This letter is not a beseeching crave of reconnection after years of suffering without your affections. This is an old friend, as I hope I still count on in your heart as, request._

 _I have not told you all of the reasons behind my wish to disappear from Westeros all those years ago. There was too much pain between us at the time and a grieving part of me did not trust you with my secrets._

 _A precious gift was stolen from under the lions and stags noses that tragic day that gave me light in the darkest of times. Hidden in Maegor's secret passages and smuggled out of the Crownlands, like stories of princesses and princes of old, a child survived and endured. I had known that truth by the time you met me in Starfall with secrets of your own, but I could not risk telling you._

 _I could not risk her safety._

 _She is the last gift of my dearest friend, my sister in all that mattered, and I will protect her last ray of sun with my life. I trust you know the feeling._

Ned could not believe what he was reading, yet a part of him screamed that it was obvious. It made what happened in Starfall much more clear to deny it as false. But … How? And why telling him now? His gaze kept going over to the necklace, and each time it pierced into his heart more deeply. She had kept the necklace all these years, while he believed it to be on the bottom of the Torentine.

 _For years we hide ourselves to great effect. After all, no one looks of dead people. I shall pray it stays that way. But I could not keep the secret you trusted me all those years ago. Not from her. More than anyone, she deserved to know the truth._ _To know a bond that she thought had been taken from her so violently._

 _As you read this letter, and knowing her plan, I can tell you she is currently outside your castle walls, in Wintertown, and I believe the boy who gave you this letter was probably Arellas. Do not worry about it possible knowing._

 _My request is then,_

 _She wishes to meet him, her last brother, for the love we once shared, for the love, I know you feel for Jon, allowed her this request. Allow them to know one another. Allow her the last chance at a family. Besides, I dare to say she won't leave so easily. She has a stubbornness the likes I haven't seen in years, and she will get her way, even without help or permission._

 _And old friend._

"Take me to her," he said to the young man, pointing to the letter.

* * *

The Lord of Winterfell entered the room, offering a thankful nod to the young man who guided him as he walked out, closing the door. He ran so fast he barely registered anyone or anything in his trip from Winterfell gates to the Wintertown, just followed the boy with worried thoughts, all of those not even close to being coherent.

Ned stood in the apartment on the top floor of the inn and watched the scene in front of him with sweating hands. The girl at the desk was worked on copying something, eyes shifting between the tome, that appeared older than the Lord of Winterfell himself, to a finer but less opulent book. She was so busy with her scribing that she failed to notice him entering, or standing for some time in the room, her face never shifting from quietness.

He remembered that the boy – Alleras – seemed to have been surprised that he followed him to Winter Town, and now it was easy to see the girl was not expecting him, as he found her surrounded by tomes and with a quill in hand. He felt foolish for interrupting whatever she was doing, but at the same time wanted to scream at her to notice him.

He took advantage of the heavy waiting to look at the girl. She wore a gown of deep plum velvet, with small black onyx sewn from shoulder to shoulder, rounding with the neckline. And even sitting, he could see the girl was tall. Her dark hair was tightly braided above the crown of her head into a severe hairstyle, held together by pearl hairpins. The sunlight shining on the desk turned the hair into a strangest of color as in between the dark hairs shone with grey tones.

The clarity in the room allowed him to notice that the olive skin tone, typical of the salty Dornishmen, a sharp jawline, a pointy chin, and high cheekbones. There was nothing that exposed her true parentage, but even from afar he could see she was a true beauty.

He looked around trying to keep his mind in control, but nothing in the room stand out to him.

The petite girl about Sansa's age, who cheerfully introduced herself as Mae, when helping in him inside the room, let out a low chuckle. Ned turned to her only to see her rolled her eyes, in the same exasperating way, he saw Sansa and Arya look at each other. Thinking about his daughters made him think about Jon who had no idea of his real parentage, or that his sister was demanding to see him. A sister that was still completely oblivious to the Lord of Winterfell presence in the room, as she turned to write another page.

Ned shifted his weight, the sound of the quill only making him more impatient.

Mae took pity on him or got bored of standing doing nothing and coughed twice, but the woman still didn't move from her writing.

Years as a Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North stopped him from letting out a deep breath or a frustrated groan as the girl put down her quill in a slow movement. As she turned to them, the Lord of Winterfell who almost felt a step back as he saw the purple eyes adorning her face.

Her large eyes, however, were fixed on the young girl who was looking sheepishly at the floor. The woman's face then sharply moved to the door. No word was pronounced as the girl left the room.

The silence lasted two heartbeats.

"Lord Stark." She spoke in ways of introducing, but nothing in her voice sounded courtly, but she didn't sound dismissive or displeased. Furthermore, she did not move from her sit, as one would do in front of a lord to show curtsey. He reminded himself that he was interrupting her time and that she was probably not used to the Westerosi costumes. What could she possibly be doing, he had no idea. Ashara's letter had said nothing about the princess other than that she was stubborn _. And she is a princess_ , a voice that sounded like Ashara's reminded him sharply _, she has no reason to show you curtsey._

"Please, take a sit." He did as she asked, taking the only available chair, putting them face to face, only a dark table separated the two. And the books.

As he saw her up close, Ned couldn't help but noticed that her eyes were more violet than purple, lighter than Ashara's. Her features were also more defined. He shook the comparison away and tried to think what to say. He should have planned this better, instead of taking off with the boy.

He had finally gathered his wits to speak when he heard her voice.

"I wasn't expecting you to come right away." She told him with a slight accent that he couldn't place. Not the Dornish, Ned was sure. And not the same as the boy.

He focused on more important questions. "How long…"

"Have I known about Jon? Have I been in Winter Town?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, but the rest of her face stood still. Her tone was casual as if asking about the weather, "some years and a couple of days." Her voice took a turned serious as she added, "I must say, I didn't expect the North to be the first place in Westeros I would put my feet on."

 _For years._ Suddenly realization hit him with the weight of years of secrets.

"Ashara..." He whispered the name, trying to hide the pain, and not think about the necklace that felt like weighted a mountain in the sleeve of his cloak.

"She told me, once I was old enough to understand the need to keep it to myself." He saw her lips formed a barely there- yet sad- smile that came as soon as it went. "She raised me." There was some warning in her voice, he could pick it up, but he could not understand why. Once, when he was barely a man, Ashara had been the woman he hoped to marry, he would never do anything to hurt her.

"How did you survive?"

As she closed her eyes, the woman let out a heavy breath. Rising from her seat, she walked to the window, opening it. The cold breeze was most welcome. With her back turned to him, Ned could see the small black buttons along her spine.

"After the Trident-," Her back straightened until they were painfully stiff. "My parents' chambers had secret passages. Well hidden to all but those who know where they were. I ran there when the battle noises started. I tried to wait for them, but one of my mother's ladies in waiting- Lady Myrianna - her name was Myrianna - pushed me into the secret passage, told me to run and closed it. It was just before they came in."

He remembered Lady Myrianna bloodied body, and as much as he tried not to he could recall her face. She had been around Princess Elia's age, and everyone knew had died defending the little princess for the assassins. Fighting to the death, weaponless, for the chance to save the life of the little princess.

Another reason for the Dornish to hate them.

The Lady was married to the Lord of one of the oldest houses of Dorne, and her mother was the ruler of another. A senseless murder covered in Lannister's red cloak.

"The girl-"

She didn't let him finish the question. "She had a bastard daughter who used to play with me," She let a chuckle so dark that send shivers down Ned's spine. Her next words were even more somber. "All that mattered was that the girl looked Dornish. A four-year-old covered in blood and gore. I guess we looked the same."

Prince Aegon Targaryen skull was crushed against a wall, and the body of Princess Elia found next to what remained of her infant son. Princess Rhaenys Targaryen was found underneath Rhaegar's bed and stabbed to death. Her face was still recognizable enough, Ned had never seen the little princess to that point, but all agreed she looked like Princess Elia.

"Your friend was so occupied in hunting down and killing the rest of my family that hiding away in Essos was easy. The Dayne's had given Ashara enough money for a lifetime in comfort, so we never starved or had to beg. And we could pick any city to live in." The deadness tone of her voice made him feel sick almost as much as the memory of those children.

She turned to him, purple eyes unfocused as if far away from the room. _Maegor's Holdfast,_ Ned knew.

"Do they know?" He asked, but his eyes focused on her linked hands. When she turned, the sunlight had hit her finger, shinning it. Only then, Ned noticed the ruby ring adorning one of her fingers. For a heartbeat he was back in the battlefield, staring at a black and red armor. He shook that image away, as he tried to direct his gaze away from the red gemstone.

"Will I challenge your friend's rule, you mean."

He didn't even think about it, all he contemplated was Jon's life being in danger. He never imagined what Rhaenys Targaryen, the daughter of Prince Rhaegar, being alive could mean to the realm. Viserys Targaryen had been the one who everyone knew was trying, and failing, to gather swords for the Targaryen cause across the sea.

Dorne screamed for revenge, and they had become independent in all but name since the Rebellion. A daughter of Princess Elia, they would go to war with open arms for her. However, no word of an approaching war or whispers of treason had come from the Martell's, not since Prince Oberyn failed attempt to crown Viserys.

Her voice broke his thought. The blood-red ring was still in his gaze. _It couldn't be,_ Ned told himself, as he tried to focus on what the woman was saying.

"No. Robert Baratheon rule is safe from me. I would never throw the only family I have left into a war that could wipe them out. Viserys is dead, and they say the Young Princess is lost somewhere in the deepness of Essos. Probably dead too." Her voice was calm, not at all painted by lost.

What she had said had not come as a surprise to Ned. Jon Arryn had sent a raven telling him the Beggar King was found dead in a merchant's mansion. Robert had paid the cheesemonger Viserys weight in gold, his body had returned to King's Landing to be burned, the way of the Targaryen.

But it wasn't that family he spoke off. _I didn't expect the North to be the first place_ … She never told them. House Martell, especially Prince Oberyn, they would fight to the last man for a change to put Princess Elia's daughter on the throne.

"They don't know you're alive," Ned concluded with astonishment.

She just stared at him, pressing lips before saying. "You know why I came here."

 _She wishes to meet him, for the love you once bore me, allowed her this request,_ the letter had said. He looked over at the woman who had taken her place on the chair once more. She sat straight and her eyes betrayed nothing but seriousness. She wants to meet Jon. _Promise me, Ned._

 _Does she have anyone to call family?_

"He doesn't know." She raised an eyebrow in response. "No one knows."

"All but me, Howland Reed, Ashara, and Wylla. I cannot speak for your friend, but both women will keep the secret." There were others who knew the truth, but they would not betray that knowledge. He had known all those years ago. A part of him is glad she doesn't know, a larger part felt even more guilty. _Ashara_.

"What about you?"

"I told you. I wish to meet him." She must have noticed the reluctant on his face because the look turned sharper. When she spoke again, her eyes were harsh and fixed on his, "I lost one brother Lord Stark. I will not be kept away from another. Not even if I have to stay my entire life in this town waiting. Or scream at Winterfell gates for all the North to hear. I will meet my brother."

Ned shallow at the conviction on the woman's voice. He knew he could not convince her otherwise. "It stays between us. I promised my sister as she died that I would protect him."

She replied with a barely there nod. The harshness had not left her face.

"I also shall be the one telling him. I own him and my sister that much." She had not refuted and had barely shown enough courtesy as he left.

* * *

"I never expected to tell you this. At least not at such a young age." Father spoke, and Jon could see he was very nervous. Jon was too since father told him to follow him with heavy eyes, and guided him to the crypts of Winterfell.

Jon still remembered his dreams about the place. And now where he was. _This is a Stark place._ _I don't belong here_ _._ "I wish for us to go to a place where no one will interrupt us. And this is the only place it feels right to tell you about your mother." His father had said to Jon when he stopped at the crypt's entrance, in shock and fear, unable to move.

"Your mother was one of a kind. Beautiful and willful, but with iron underneath." Lord Stark looked as sad as he sounded.

"Did you love her?" Jon found himself asking with a small voice. _Was,_ the word echo in his mind repeatedly.

"Yes, from the moment I met her until the day I die I will love her." Ned Stark took a deep breath as he looked at the statue of his sister. His words made Jon feel sad. He took look at the stone figure. Lovely but cold, he thought. "You look so much like her."

"I look like a Stark." He spoke with a frown. It was one of the few things that made him feel proud. He might not have the Stark name, but he resembled like one.

"You do." Father put one hand on Jon's shoulder and lowered body until his grey eyes fixed on Jon's. He looked sad but serious. "No matter what Jon, you are my son."

"I don't understand."

"I'm going to tell you a story, a painful one, but you must promise to listen to the very end."

* * *

Jon ran to his room with tears in his eyes. _His father wasn't his father. His father wasn't his father. His father wasn't his father._ _His parents were dead. They caused a war._

"The main reason we went to war was that of Aerys' actions." Father had told him, but he still left like crying more. His parents were dead. He was alone. Arya. Robb. Bran. Sansa. Baby Rickon. His half-sibling were his cousins. And his true half-siblings –

" _Your sister Rhaenys wrote to me. She wishes to meet you. She crossed the sea and risked her life coming here. She is currently staying in Wintertown, when you're ready, if you wish, I can take you to her."_

He didn't wait for his father to explain further, before running to his room, where he had locked the door and crumble on the floor, crying. Afterward, he paced around the trashed room, until he had enough. He needed to do something. Grabbing his cloak, he ran out of Winterfell all the way to the inn.

* * *

The moon was high in the sky when he opened the door and looked around. Only a couple of men were in the tables, drinking happily. He had no idea where to go. _Stupid_. It was deep into the night. He looked back to the castle walls, not very far away. _No. I cannot go back to Winterfell. I cannot._

Jon felt a hand on his shoulder, making him jumped, startled he look up to see a young man who looked nothing like a northerner, clean-shaved, and with well-cared appearance. His eyes measured Jon's appearance as fought the urge to hide.

"Jon Snow?" the man asked. Jon nodded in confirmation. "Follow me. I will take you to your sister."

Following the brawny man in brown leathers trimmed with light fur, Jon climbed up the stairs to the top floor. On the upper floor, they were met with two large closed doors. A knight, or at least he looked like one, in very dark red light armor, and a warrior bearing, stood by the door, hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes immediately went to Jon who looked down embarrassed by his rash decision to just appear without announcing. The two men, both carrying swords, Jon now noticed, must be his sister's protectors. He was a young boy appearing in the middle of the night. What a figure he must be making.

The man in red turned to the younger man in brown. "Rolly?" The word came as a question from a superior. Jon didn't know personal guards required superiors. _You never meet anyone who had personal guards instead of knights in service to a house._

From the corner of his eyes, he could see the Rolly shrugged before asking, "Is the lady still awake?" The red dressed man raised an eyebrow in response. Both share some meaningful look that Jon could not understand.

"You can leave." The brown haired commanded while tilting his head to Jon's direction. Jon didn't know what the gesture meant but Rolly must have found his answer as he nodded and left. The red knight opened one of the two doors.

"My name is Simmon." He introduced with a small inclination of his head, but then added with gentleness and an encouraging smile. "Good luck."

* * *

The doors opened to a solar. A table for eight stood in the right covered with books and scrolls. Jon also took notice that the largest one seemed to be of a map but of what he could not be certain of what, as it was covered with much of the reading material. The chairs were unoccupied, and door not far away was closed, but what called his attention was the desk by the window where a woman was writing something in a piece of parchment with arched eyebrows pushed together in concentration. She was surrounded by candles that lightened the corner, and a hearth provided warmth to the room. The cracking blaze was the only sound in the room, besides that of the quill.

She moved her face to consult one of the largest books Jon's had ever seen. Her nose contorted in dislike at whatever she found. Her lips moved for a while, but no sound came out.

"Mi'lady," Simmon called twice, but her fingers kept were moving over the book page, clearly engaged in her work. The third time he tried was louder as he walked closer, almost covering her view of Jon. He heard a small hum coming from her as a reply.

"You are alone, my lady?" The man asked. The woman finally looked up from her scrolls, and Jon was rooted in his place. She stared at the man as if perplexed by his question, but then her gaze turned back to her book, and Jon grew a bit anxious with the dismissive.

"Gherrio and Sarella grew tired of losing arguments and retired for the evening. Haldon grumbled something about the cold as an excuse early on," She replied flatly, without looking up or stopping whatever she was doing. If he wasn't so nervous, Jon would have laughed at her lack of awareness on what surrounded her, and then, would worry about what could be so important that she had failed to notice an unknown man entering her chambers.

"Mi'lady." The blond man spoke clear uncertainty. That made her look up.

"Simmon, I am bu-" She froze mid-sentence and her hands froze in the air when she saw _him_. Jon could hear his loud heartbeats and his swallowing.

She was beautiful, in a way Sansa dreamed of being in the future, but she didn't have silver hair nor the pale skin he associated with the Targaryen princesses from the stories. She was as beautiful as they were said to be, however.

"Leave us." She commanded, waving a hand, and the man left without any protest of her tone or the order. Not even Lady Stark would act like that.

It was as she got up from the table that Jon noticed her clothing, a scarlet dressing gown was loosely tightened around her waist showcasing an ivory linen undertunic who was unlaced at the top, showing her cleavage. Jon looked down at the floor feeling his face heat up. It took some time to find the courage to look up, and it only happened because he heard the movements and got curious.

He expected that she would have added some thick _something_ to cover herself, but it did not happen.

She stood next to him and blinked twice. She looked nothing like Sansa. Or Arya. She didn't look like any woman he ever saw. He found that her eyes were indeed purple like the stories said. Her eyes were so piercing that he couldn't look at them for more than a heartbeat, but he still could feel them looking right through his skin. He shifted.

He shifted on his feet.

Jon should say something, but he didn't seem capable of forming words. _This is wrong._ She was his sister, _only sister_ , a voice reminded him. He should be hugging her, and ruffling her hair. _She is older than you, idiot. She isn't Arya. She probably wouldn't like you messing her hair._

Her hair was braided onto her right side, to the waist, with a few loose strands loose and smelled like she got out of a bath not long ago.

"My name is Rhaenys." _Like Aegon the Conqueror's sister-wife._ "But mostly no one calls me that." She stopped talking in favor to looked at him up and down. Jon noticed she was biting her lip. But her teeth left the bottom lip as soon as she realized it.

Her eyes studied him once more, spending most of the time on his face. Something in her gaze daunted him. It wasn't the coldness of Lady Stark that made him feel ashamed and unwanted. It was like she was trying to see him down to his very soul. Absorbing all she could about him. His secrets and shames.

"My name is Jon." He blustered loudly and fought the urge to hide his face with his hands. _Idiot. The entire country doesn't need to know._ He felt his face redden.

She seemed to be about to say something but stopped at his outburst. The previous look changed into a composed courtesy as she pointed to the chair. "Would you like to take a sit?"

He nodded, following her to the desk, glad that her eyes had softened. He took notice of the five tomes, the sides had titles written, but Jon didn't know the language, and the parchment she was writing had more numbers than words. It made his head hurt just only by looking at it.

"It's Braavosi Valyrian. Some at least. The rest are calculus," she offered in a way of explanation as if those were simple sums and not whatever complex thing they appeared to be. It made him feel even more of an idiot.

The silence had returned after that, and he went from shifting uncomfortably on his feet, to shifting uncomfortably in the chair. Why couldn't he just stay something? Anything to stop the cold silence.

"Would you like something to eat? Or maybe drink?" Her poised ways made Jon feel ever more like a boy. How was she so damn calm? Jon had to constantly top himself from moving his hands through his hair in frustration.

"No." He replied, and then he remembered that he ran off without dining. _Stupid._

"Well, I haven't eaten supper yet, would you mind sharing the meal with me?"

Jon nodded.

She got up and walked to the door, opening it and speaking in a hushed tone with the knight. Jon blinked at how fast she moved from sitting up to getting up, for a second Jon remembered how Arya couldn't stay still for long. Then he recalled the calmness of the woman, and almost laughed at the idea of comparing them.

Eventually, she returned and sat down in front of him.

"I wasn't expecting you today." She spoke neutrally. She didn't look serene anymore, but she didn't look unwelcoming. He knew unwelcoming, he saw it in Lady Stark face every day.

"I… I ran." He found himself confessing while looking at the wooden table.

"Because Lord Stark told you the truth?" She didn't sound judgmental, only slightly curious.

"I was the bastard of Winterfell, it might not have been much, but it was something." The words poured out of him before he could stop them. The thoughts that screamed in his head for hours, vocalized in front of a woman he just met. _His sister. Half-sister. Trueborn half-sister._ It was the look in her eyes. Her eyes seemed to make him even more stupid. "Now I am what?" Hours of pacing in his room and crying resulted in that same question.

"A son of a shattered dynastic," she said, in a low tone, but not weakly, more like, when Maester Luwin explained something complex, yet gloomy.

"A bastard that caused a war," he replied roughly, as his hands curled into fists on top of his lap. He didn't need her pity. He would rather have Sansa's polite indifference. It made him less angry.

"You're not a bastard nor did you caused of a war." Her voice cut through him, causing him to flinch. Jon couldn't help but look at her face. She looked as stern as she sounded. "The only Targaryen bastards in Westerosi history that caused wars were Daemon Blackfyre and Bittersteel. Our father married your mother in the eyes of her faith. And last time I checked you have not been battling anyone to have caused a war." He noticed the condescension tone in which she spoke of the man who sired them.

But them her words rang in his brain. "What?"

She closed her large eyes for a brief second and took a deep breath. When opened them, there was no expression left in her face. "Rhaegar Targaryen married Lyanna Stark under the faith of the Old Gods, entering a polygamy marriage of the Targaryen of old. In the eyes of many you are no bastard, and the eyes of the rest you are a legitimized son. Your name is not even Jon Snow."

"Hum?" His head hurt with all this information.

"As much I would found hilarious calling you _Visenya_." She replied dryly, "fate got one over Rhaegar Targaryen." She sounded pleased with it, it was an odd switch of mood. "You were named Jaehaerys Targaryen."

"My name is -" he couldn't understand all this. He wanted to curl in his bed and cry. Everything was wrong. His sister was a _strange_ stranger. He wanted to be Ned's Stark son. He wanted to be Jon Stark. He wanted his mother. He wanted to know what it felt to be hugged by his mother. He wanted Robb, and Arya, and Bran, and Rickon, and even Sansa to be his siblings again.

He left a warm hand on his and looked at his sister. Her face didn't hold the sternness or the emptiness of before. She looked at him with understanding in her eyes. He found it easy to look at them now. They were a beautiful shade of purple. Light, but not lilac. But they weren't violet either. They were like amethysts. Old, wise amethysts.

"Jon, Jaehaerys, Jae. You are who you want to be. I recognize it cannot be easy having your life turned upside down."

"You cannot understand. I was raised to believe in a _lie_."

Something hard flinched in her eyes, but it was gone as fast as it came. "That _lie_ saved you from having my brother's fate. Our brother's fate. You think I go around telling my name to everyone? You grew up in a castle to call home, with brothers and sisters who care for you, and a father who loves you. You had a childhood. You played games with other children. You had food on your table every day, and you learned from a maester, probably as much as a lordling. You might not have the luxuries of a prince or the kindness of everyone around you, but you had a safe childhood, and if not perfect, I gather it wasn't completely unhappy either."

"Like yours?" He found himself asking, and all he got was a sad little smile and something shattered in her eyes, that was replaced with her composed look in a heartbeat. _She came here because she wanted to meet me and I've been behaving like a child and asking stupid questions._ "I'm sorry." He extended his hand in front of her face and she flinched back a little. _Did she think he would hurt her?_ "My name is Jon." He said slowly.

Her face lost the stiffness and a small but true smile broke out of her face. It made her look younger. "I was born Rhaenys, but I go by Valanei Sarnara. Most people call me Val."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes** : Thank you so much for your reviews. Most of you asked about the pairings while I will not reveal who gets pairs up with (if you are really curious PM me), there will be romances and flings in this story, they are a bunch of teenagers after all and love is part of all journeys, it is best I say right away **there will be no Jon/Rhaenys, or Dany/Jon or even Jon/Sansa** , it's not out of hatred for the pairings or anything relatively close to it. I want to explore less common pairings with this story.

I shall address each one review at the end of the chapter. Please feel free to give advices or constructive criticism.

* * *

Chapter 2

 _Third Week of the Second Moon of 295 AC_

 _Island of Starfall, Dorne_

Daenerys Targaryen loved Dorne. The hidden princess found herself thinking not for the first time, while she watched the sunset at Starfall, heard the sound of waves breaking on the rocks, and felt the soft wind caressing her skin.

She has been staying in Starfall for two moons turn. However, she had been hiding as Dyalla Sand, bastard sister of Ser Gerold Dayne, Knight of High Hermitage, for three years now. She had come to Dorne a girl of ten namesday, and by now has seen most of what the south Kingdom had to offer as she was a lady companion of Princess Arianne Martell. The Heiress of Dorne had taken traveling throughout the Kingdom and took Daenerys with her, introducing the hidden princess around. Arianne found a certain amusement in their secret and making inside jokes. Even if with time some of the most loyal bannerman of House Martell had been brought into the fold, those who Prince Doran believed to be trustworthy enough, and they weren't many. Daenerys understood why. In the eyes of many what they were doing was treason, so they needed to be cautious. Fortunately, Prince Doran had it in spares.

The Princess of Dorne had taken the responsibility and a vow to look after and care for Daenerys as she would on of own blood, the entire family had vowed it to Rhaenys. The Martell's think she doesn't know, but she does. Rhaenys would never allow Dany to stay a _day_ in a place where she didn't felt safe and cared for, let alone _years_.

Daenerys is thankful for Rhaenys, and for the Martell'a and Dayne's.

They treat Dany with kindness and respect befitting of a Princess of the Realm when they had no reason too and were risking death for it. They taught her subjects that she would probably never learn otherwise – maybe not even if her family was still in power, as women in Dorne were raised differently than on the other six kingdoms, and she had the bastard status to allow her to be whoever she wished to be, as Sarella liked to point out many times. _Not that Sarella Sand was the perfect example to follow with the games she wants to play in Oldtown_. There was a reason she was Sand Snake Rhaenys spent the most time with, and it wasn't just because they were 'bookworm lovers' as Prince Oberyn affectionately called them- not that _he_ had much room to talk- he did force six links of a Maester's chain in his youth.

She would always be in debt to House Martell for the protection and kindness shown to her. They saved her, maybe not from death itself, but from other terrible faiths, and one does not forget something like that. Daenerys would not follow the path of some members of her house, those who forgot that family was the most important.

 _I shall be like the best Targaryen's, those who never forgot family and defended it with the burning passion befitting of a dragon._

And House Martell was _family_.

It was the youngest sand snakes that Daenerys loved the most, and spent the most of time with, warming her heart with laughter and children games. It made her wonder if that was what having younger siblings meant. Oberyn and Ellaria have four daughter- eight - if counting all of the infamous older Sand Snakes (and Ellaria certainly did), and sometimes when she looks at her their loud but treasured family, Dany dreams of her children. Daenerys was the youngest of three, but it felt like she never had a siblings bond with them, not anymore, not with them. Thinking about her siblings made Daenerys feel conflicted. But mostly sad.

 _A sister without brothers, and a daughter without parents_. But in a way, Dany had found siblings in all but blood in her years in Dorne, even if they were 'peculiar individuals with reckless tendencies' as Rhaenys was fond of saying. Furthermore, Prince Rhaegar was nothing more than a picture of a person in her mind. As a child, he was she envisioned when she thought of the perfect prince, a man out of the greatest of tales, but now she realized the song didn't match the reality.

Rhaegar was not the Last Dragon, and Viserys … Viserys was _Viserys_.

She hadn't seen Viserys since she was a ten years old frightened little girl.

"Everyone has been looking for you." Princess Arianne said, taking a seat next to her on the rocks. The Princess had ditched the court silks for a robe that Daenerys was sure she stole from Daemon Sand.

"Are they still celebrating?" Arianne gave her a bright smile as a reply. There was a reason to celebrate. _Rhaenys is coming home_. Daenerys is surprised Starfall is still standing.

"I believe the alcohol has finally got to uncle Oberyn and he finally decided between tears of joy or running after her, pacing around in tears seems to have been the compromise. Ellaria was trying to send him to bed last I saw them."

Daenerys let a little laughed at the image, and thanked the gods for Ellaria sweet patience. The woman sure had it.

"Ty and Nym have already retired." Obara and Sarella were in Sunspear. They were the ones who would greet Rhaenys. Nym must have retired to Lady Jeyne Fowler bedchambers, and Tyene was probably organizing all whispers she gathered in the feast. They were all trying to figure out what they would find in Hellholt.

"And I've seen Rolly and Richard truly enjoyed themselves." They must have felt relief after the tensest year Dany could remember.

"What about you?"

"I celebrate with Daemon in true Dornish fashion, but I have seen to tired him out for the day." Arianne winked a sly smile on her lips, making Dany's blush. "You should find a handsome poet, to recite to in Valyrian verses over sweet kisses."

Dany blushed even more. She had shared a few kisses with Edric Dayne, mostly because she wanted to know what it was like, and Arianne had found them by the gardens. She never let her forget it.

They looked at the waves, the edginess inside them finally revealed itself as a heavy silence grew between them. It was Daenerys who broke it with a whisper. "I miss her."

She didn't need to turn to her left side to see Arianne nod, but the Dornish Princess spoke with a quiet tone, untypical for her. "Why do you think she picked Hellholt for a meeting?"

It was the question on everyone's mind, Dany offered the typical answer. "For something symbolic or theatrical? Or her humor got even stranger."

"Do you believe that?"

"We haven't seen her in almost two years, Ari. All we got were letters, presents, and trade evidence of her work. And after Volantis-" Arianne sparkling eyes grew dull with sadness. The princess had not received a letter after Volantis. Dany had burned hers at Rhaenys request after reading it. They all did, those who received them. The words didn't say much, she wrote them to appease them, but mostly to keep it from going after her.

"After months of silence she sends that letter," Arianne pointed to the parchment on Dany's hand, the frustration clear in her voice "telling us to go to Hellholt. Hellholt of all places! Nymeria believes she wishes to declare war, Tyene that she is plotting something big, and in her mind that means assassinations. My uncle is of no use when it comes to Rhaenys, and my father writes us to do as she bids."

"You think Prince Doran knows something?"

"If there is one person Rhaenys would tell of her schemes it would be my father." As much as Arianne tried, Dany could see the jealousy in her voice.

When they were children, Arianne had been sent to be a cupbearer to the Archon of Tyrosh. Rhaenys was hiding there as the man's scribe and apprentices. It was a plot to have the two heiresses met and connected, but Prince Doran had not told Arianne the truth, and they didn't get along at all. For all Arianne's childish pettiness, Rhaenys had been coolly indifferent to her. While Arianne turned the other children against her, Rhaenys' intelligence had her praised be the adults, especially Doran. It went down the hills from there on, and after two years, Doran had called Arianne back to Sunspear and never trusted his daughter the truth. After the letters from Volantis came, the Princess had got herself drunk and told Dany everything.

"Do you remember how she was when she embarked on the Cinnamon Wind?" Dany nodded as she felt something cold inside her. She knew what Arianne would ask. She had asked herself. "Do you think she could be worse?"

"She ditched protection at Volantis and sailed East with gods knows where asides from two people who are loyal only to her. Left a message about seeing the world, and made sure that we did not follow after the threats she wrote." Daenerys frustration kept rising with each word until she stood a deep breath. "I think things are about to become complicated, to say the least."

After another tense silence, Arianne added. "Myrio has been named Prince of Pentos." That information shocked Dany almost as much as the letter.

* * *

 _First Day of the Eight Moon of 295 AC_

 _Hellhout, Dorne_

Daenerys sat with a book in her hand as she watched the men train in the courtyard. This new round had Prince Oberyn facing against his daughter Obara and her spear, Daemon Sand and his sword, and Barsena Blackhair, and her blade. The brown-skinned woman presence was a curious tale, a former pit-fight that Rhaenys had bought together with twenty young girls who were being training for the slaughter that the Master of Meeeren called entertainment. It had not been the first time Rhaenys spent her money buying and freeing slaves, mostly young girls and boys, from their masters or at a slave auction. The stories Barsena told of the Slaver's Bay Masters were enough to make any angry. The former slave had been stubborn about training with anything other than her blade, citing that it was the best of weapons and not once had let her down. Prince Oberyn Martell took it personally, defeating the woman in a spar with his spear. For that moment on, every morning they spar against one another.

On the balcony above the training yard, Daenerys spotted Ser Gerold Dayne having a conversation with his half-sister, the Lady Myria Jordayne. The two siblings could not have been more different in appearance. Ser Gerold was a handsome man with the Dayne look while Lady Myria was a true Dornish beauty, with dark brown hair and a thin figure, the only common trait was their square jaws. Lady Myria was garbed in dark green silks and with gold bracelets around her left wrist, the colors of House Jordayne, but everyone knew what does accessories covered. Not that anyone spoke of it out loud. The Lady Myria might carry her fragility in the same way Ser Gerold spread his spitefulness, but they were the ones who escape Tywin Lannister's men with Rhaenys during the sack, and Gerold would face an entire army for the two women, even worse.

 _After what they did to their mother, the valiant Lady Myrianna, no one could blame them for their hatred._

Daenerys's protectors, Ser Rolyn and Ser Richard were resting after a long one on one fight. Ser Rolyn was quick and young, but Ser Richard had experience and strength and, according to the experts, better footwork. It had been an impressive fight, but Rolyn's youth had been the ultimate weak point when he left an opening to Richard' sword.

She enjoyed her time with her loyal companions spending most of her time in their company, not that she had many other options as they weren't to leave her unprotected, to the point their friendly faces became more than welcomed. Rhaenys took Ser Rolly and Ser Simmon with her. The others could be recognized, and that she could not risk. Ser Rolyn protested, arguing that he would not drag too much attention, as he had a similar look. Dany still remembered Rhaenys reply. _"You walk, talk and act and look like a lording Rolyn. For that, I might as well bring you North with your family coat of arms in your chest and banner announcing my own. Or might have Aurane be my ship captain as well and Gerold as my sworn shield. Should I take Dany and Ashara as my lady companions next?"_ The conversation ended there, and moved into a glaring context, to the others' amusement, especially since Ser Rolyn was one of the few people who could stand a full head taller than Rhae, but she was still far much more intimidating than the Riverlander.

One look from Rhaenys was all it took to quite the oldest knights on the room. However, no one was pleased with the number of guards Rhaenys took on her trip North, especially when she had just returned to them. Prince Oberyn being the most vocal, but most relented eventually- no one wanted to repeat Volantis. Rhaenys already was taking a risk, since three of the Sand Snakes went with her. Dany was surprised Prince Doran didn't lock his younger brother in a room in the Water Gardens, but the Red Viper had not followed his niece and daughters North - _yet_. A certain red-haired man _probably_ was locked in some small room in the Water Gardens. Daenerys tried not look too pleased with the idea. She, however, was still shocked Gerold had not opened his mouth to protest, but the knight had broken his fast with Rhaenys that day in her solar.

Daenerys understood the need to have someone protecting her back. They were targets even if they were not the last members of a powerful but out of power dynasty, simply because bandits would believe they were easier targets for their gender if only Rhaenys would understand. But Rhaenys liked her ' _alone time'_ like no other and the fear to have her disappear once again was too fresh in their minds. Rhaenys had just returned to them, a different woman, and with plans within plans that left Dany wondering why her family could not be uncomplicated and _ordinary_.

And dragon blood was not the answer, the Martell's had little and were like that way before they married into Targaryen family.

For years, Dany had wanted her niece, it was so strange of think of Rhaenys as her _niece,_ to take rides from the Water Gardens to Sunspear with her, to feel the freeze of the ocean on her face and the sand on her feet as she listened to Ser Rolyn's tales of the Riverlands and his family. She would love it, Daenerys had been sure, almost as much as Dany did, and never want leave again. But when Rhaenys would come to visit, she left as fast as she arrived. She was back in the ship, a merchant's life never stops, she would say.

Ser Richard told Dany that Rhaenys was always prone to introversion and the years only made it worse. Once, he even confessed Rhaenys had much of Prince Rhaegar's behavior and personality but with more sternness. Dany hoped he didn't say that to Rhaenys.

But Dany knew there was more to it. She spent more time in Oldtown than in Dorne.

Daenerys might not have recalled Westeros, had been all but a newborn when they fled, but Rhaenys had remembered enough. _Maybe that was worse_. Viserys had been the one who spoke of returning home, reclaiming that was his, even if wasn't. _And he was the one who never came back._

Viserys had believed in a fantasy that was not true and would not listen to anyone but himself. Rhaenys made sure Daenerys had people around who did not coddle her with the truth.

 _There is only more than one side to any tale, and we must always listen to them, no matter how much they pain us._ Rhaenys had told her the first time Danny asked why she spent so much time teaching her history and heraldry when she had so much work to do. Back when they lived in Essos. Even more so when she once saw the consequences of it, Viserys didn't like the tales of the Aegon the Unworthy or Maegor the Cruel, especially the Mad King and he made sure Rhaenys knew it. But Rhaenys is the blood of the dragon – much more than Viserys ever claim to have- and would not sit back and be meek. It had given Daenerys the courage she needed to face off against her brother. And the rare proud smile Rhaenys had gifted her were worth a thousand praises from Viserys.

Daenerys could still remember the day the news came of Prince Viserys death. Rhaenys had come to inform her in person. It had been the first time she had seen Rhaenys in disarray. Two years had passed, and Daenerys still remembered the void expression on Rhaenys' face.

Daenerys had been in the Water Gardens at the time. That day she had sat in silence, watching the children play in the pools, reflecting in the news she had gotten from Rhaenys who had afterward locked herself somewhere in the Known World – most likely the closest library.

It had not been Robert's Baratheon hidden daggers, but Viserys own cruelty, _madness_ , that took him to an early grave.

Later, Prince Doran sat on the white bench, joining her, they gazed at the pools, in silence. When the day cooled off, and the children returned to their families, Daenerys took a deep breath, trying to find the strength within herself to do something, the Prince spoke.

"I wish I could give you some word of comfort to Princess that there was a way to spare you of the sadness of losing a brother," He had spoken in a quiet voice, most would call it flat. But she knew Prince Doran understood lost better than most, even if he did not know what took Viserys, at least Daenerys did not think he did. Or maybe that was the reason for his need for reflections that day? Would Rhaenys tell them? Dany was surprised she knew her the whole story. She could not imagine telling her family the long tale.

"If you knew him, you would not feel like that." There was no bit to her tone; it was not an attack, just a confession that cost Daenerys the first tears to fall.

The tears did not stop her. She would talk to someone, as Tyene had offered that morning, but not one they would expect. Prince Doran would sit in silence and hear. That was she needed.

"He wasn't cruel, not always, he might never have been the picture of kindness but once he was the boy who took care of me, the only person I had for a long time. Time made him bitter and bitter, then angry, and then he no longer looked at me with any … consideration." Daenerys took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air. Her eyes burned with tears, but she did not touch them. She pressed her hands against one another.

"He would be violent, blaming me for 'waking the dragon' when he became enraged. It was always someone else to blame. When Rhaenys had come for us, he hated her. I could see it in his eyes. The hatred only grew with time. He hit her once with a belt, just once, but with the strength to knock her to the ground. I still remember seeing her face into the dirty, her bloody lips, the wound the right side of her face. He was ready to kick her, but she rose, and just stared for the longest time. After some time she said: Daenerys will be going to Dorne in a fortnight and staying there." She turned to Prince Doran. His face betrayed nothing. "I didn't believe her at first," Daenerys added with a snort, but a little smile appeared on her face.

"But the ship was on the port in four days. Viserys tried to stop me, kicking me to the ground and I remembered how Rhaenys had not stayed down, and for the first time, I fought back. The next time you raise a hand to me, it would be last time you have hands, those were my last words to him. I embarked two days later, and he never came to say goodbye, but I was not surprised. Even at ten, a part of me knew he would only get worse. The first time Prince Oberyn asked me if I wanted to train the martial arts, but he told me the same thing he said to his daughters: we fight our battles, but the gods let us choose our weapons. Viserys expected others to fight for him, to bow and to obey him at all times. It isn't right."

They had stood in silence for some time, listening to the voices away and feeling the cool breeze. It was so peaceful that it calmed Daenerys heart.

"The Water Gardens are my favorite place in this world," Prince Doran spoke, his eyes fixed on the reflection of the moon in the water. "One of my ancestors, Prince Maron, had them built for a Targaryen bride. To free her from the dust and hear of Sunspear. She had a beautiful name, this princess."

There was a glint in his eyes, and Daenerys found herself smiling. Daenerys had known this story, or at least the historian tale, but she found listening to Prince Doran's tell was calming as it was enlightening. Dany had seen the portrait of her namesake in Sunspear.

"She was sister to King Daeron the Good, and it was her marriage that made Dorne part of the Seven Kingdoms. It was Daenerys who filled the gardens with laughing children. Her own children at the start, but later the sons and daughters of lords and landed knights were brought in to be companions to the boys and girls of princely blood. And one summer's day when it was scorching hot, she took pity on the children of her grooms and cooks and serving men and invited them to use the pools and fountains too, a tradition that has endured till this day"

Daenerys smiled at his words.

"You share the same heart and love for children," Doran added the last part with gentleness and a rare smile. "Your mother had a kind heart as well. She was well known for her kindness towards those who needed the most." Daenerys watery smile could not have been more heartfelt.

"Princess," a voice called her with gentleness waking her from her memories. She turned to offer a smile at the familiar man as she moved a bit, a silent invitation.

Ser Veanor wore a simple linen sea green shirt and sandsilk pant, Daenerys too was wearing sandsilk pants but with leather painted vest, painted by her own hand. There were some perks to Rhaenys travels. She always brought the most exotics gifs. While her hair was free of any constriction, his was pulled back behind his head with some silver locks unbound. She liked it, as it showed his handsome facial features. She liked it, as it showed his handsome facial features. Vaenor was nothing if not classically beautiful, in the way she had seen in paintings of old Valyrian's.

Daenerys tried not to blush at the thought. She could almost hear the girls' teasing voices. Although, Arianne and Tyene blushed like flames when they met Aurane Waters and his charming smiles and pretty words. Vaenor might not have his half-brother easy charms, but he did not need them to appeal to women. Not that he tried to seduce women. There is only one woman Vaenor wants.

"Enjoying the Dornish showing their prowess with a spear?" Vaenor asked right at that moment Daemon had Obara admitting defeat, to the displeasure of the Sand woman. "Trying at least." He jested out loud.

"Do you want me to break your pretty face?" Obara snapped but turned to Daemon demanding a rematch, as Vaenor took the free seat next to Dany.

Vaenor Velaryon was six years her senior but never treated her as a little child in the years she knew him. He also didn't show any attraction towards her. Daenerys was on the cusp of womanhood, not yet a woman but not a child anymore, and she dislikes most of the gazes she was starting to earn. She was pleased to have a young man, that was not her family, keeping her company for herself, not her looks.

Vaenor was very intelligent with an extended knowledge of economics and financial management. Two subjects Daenerys as much as she tried, could not find in herself the interest. But he also knew many tales of the lands of the known world from his travels with Rhaenys and his studies at the Citadel. They share a love for old stories and Valyrian poetry as well, being one of the few that spoke High Valyrian fluently to the level of understanding the genius intoning pitch and rhythm of certain Valyrian poets – to the surprise of many it was Prince Oberyn who also enjoyed discussing poetry, even if he was terrible at writing it.

"I wanted some fresh hair and a distraction from all the confusing wording," Dany confessed.

The silver-haired man was part of the 'obsessed bookworms' as Obara has so gently titled the group had taken over the lowest levels of Hellholt for their 'underground experiences' something that was already happening when Dany had come to meet with Rhaenys. Rhaenys being the captain of the said experimental group.

"We do bicker a lot," Vaenor told her with a guilty smile that made the Princess laugh. "I have done something useful today, I have made you smile." He told her as he moved his hand over hers. "What troubles your mind princess?"

"What if Lord Stark sends her to the usurper." Usurper dogs, Viserys used to call the lords Stark and the Arryn. And the Lannister. In Dorne, there are much worse words to describe the lions. Daenerys finds them to tame still. Sometimes she imagines of Tywin Lannister being consumed by fire for what he did to Elia and Aegon and Myrianna. And many more who dies and suffered for his pride.

For what he almost did to Rhaenys. For the scars on Myria's wrists. For Gerold's hatred.

"Lord Stark is honorable but more importantly, has compassion. He would never condemn an innocent to death."

We don't hurt little girls in Dorne. Daenerys had heard it said many times. It was as much as promise as a warning. There was no saying like that north of the Red Mountains.

"Besides, he would be putting a rope around his nephew's neck and his own, if he so much as tries to touch Rhaenys." There was dangerous in Vaenor's voice, one that Daenerys was quite familiar with it in the presence of Rhaenys allies. It was the tone that said they had contingencies plans for the worst-case scenarios, and they weren't _nice._ It was reassuring, knowing they weren't acting rashly and that Rhaenys was safe.

But still - "I just wish I had gone with her." But Daenerys was needed in Dorne, she knew, plus she was much more recognizable that Rhaenys. She told herself many times. It still didn't make her feel any better.

"I know princess. You will see her soon, and you will find her in good wealth and as stubborn as always."

She laughed. If there was something never changed over the years was Rhaenys stubbornness and unyielding will.

"And we will travel the world." That too brought a smile in Daenerys' that made her hurt her cheeks.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **German Bear** : Thank you for the love.

 **Sexybutcreepy** : Writing Jon was harder than I imagined, mostly because of his age. He is a confused 14-year-old right now, but he will get more confident as times passes. Much like in the canon, he needs to find his place in the world.

 **Awkane** : Jon is not accepting Rhaegar has his father anytime soon. He just confused and sad, and doesn't know what to think of all of this. I don't think Jon will or should idolize Rhaegar. He will grow to accept his Targaryen blood and forge a family bond with those that remain alive, but he will never forget Ned or his siblings, and all they did for him (Rhaenys bring it in the first chapter, the lie saved his life), and his feelings for his parents will always be complex, as it should be expected. Rhaenys also has more experience in disliking her father. Lyanna Stark will be a sore spot for the two of them, actually to most people in this story.

 **Blizzard dragon7777** : No, there will be no incest in this story, and Rhaenys (the leader of the family basically) is very much against it.

 **Wright** : Jon will without a doubt considered Ned his father. Jon does understand what Ned did for him, he just sad and confused right now. 'I'm not sure what to think of Rhaenys' is literally what I am going for right now. There will no POV from her anytime soon for that same reason. Rhaenys is supposed to be a mystery (much like Book!Rhaegarand other characters, show!Rhagar is a lovesick fool who deserves no respect so I will pretend he doesn't exist) and I hope to make her a bit of a contradictory character. But feel free to update me on how you feel about her.

 **Pri-Chan 1410** : Thank you, I hope to keep your interested.

 **Nanold** : Rhaenys and Jon will get to know each other- or as much one gets to know Rhaenys. And Jon will never forget he is a wolf too.

 **Abyss Trinity** : Jon will learn much about the Targaryen's and accept it as part of his blood without forgetting his other family. I do believe in your point about bookJon, he is not at all Ned 2.0 (that is the main reason I like him and his journey). About facial features, no one will doubt they are half-siblings and when they meet Dany, no one will say they don't look like a Targaryen. In my mind, Aemon would know who Jon was the moment he set foot in Castle Black if he wasn't blind. I hope I am not disappointing you but there will be no Jon/Rhaenys… not Jon/Sansa, Jon/Dany or Jon/Arya. He will find love, however, and it will be probably one of the most controversial things I will write in this story.

 **Guest (1)** : I am sorry to disappoint you, however, I can honestly say there will be no Ned/Ashara. They were at one point in love when they were young and free. Now Ned is happily married to Cat and will see Ashara soon.

 **Ssjmrxi** : Thank you.

 **Guest (2)** : Sarella always liked her games. Actually, Rhaenys never lied, Ned just assumed something and she didn't contradict ;)

 **Diana** : Marwyn will come at one point. Lady Myrianna's story is one of tragedy and will affect some characters. I like imagining the Quite Wolf in his youth, it brings a smile to my face. Who knows what Illyrio and Jon Con are plotting. Let's face it, she totally knew Ned was coming. I'm happy you noticed the little trick about Val. I love Val and I was sad she didn't appear on the show, and this is my little way of bringing her up.

 **fire1:** I'm glad you enjoyed it.

 **Fury074:** I have not found a Beta yet but will try to do my best to work on it, thank you.

 **dany1114** : Like I said there will be no Rhaenys/Jon pairing. The first chapters will be mostly to introduce characters, a bit of backstory and build the relationships (family and friendships mostly), especially the one between Jon and Rhaenys. Jon will slightly change from his arc on canon, because of Rhaenys' presence, and Rhaenys will too (if slightly less noticeable) grow because of Jon's presence in her life. But they will have a long path full of obstacles.

 **Anime Princess** : I like to believe Ned and Ashara met at Harrenhal and during those seven days (before all went to hell) they grew a strong attraction, mostly because Ned was so different from the other men who wanted to court Ashara and assumed things just because she was extraordinarily beautiful and dornish. Besides, there was an entire year before the "kidnapping" so there were a lot of letters exchanged between the two of them. Ned had to make a hard choice after the Battle of the Bells, but in the end Lyanna, justice for his family, the duty for his people, and the need for an army were larger than his personal desire.

 **Sarah** : I am trying to write Rhaenys as a character that you never really know what goes on on her head, so I am glad you find her 'fishy' because that is what she is supposed to be for now. She wasn't playing in puppies during the months she went "missing".Jon and Ned do need lots of hugs. I guess you found what happened to Dany ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jon Snow stayed awake for the entire night, talking to his sister while they enjoyed the dried fruit that Rhaenys brought from Essos, and he never tasted before. Winterfell was not known for their exotic fruits. She, however, brought with her a variety of fruits, and Jon was more than happy to try them all. She also poured each a cup of the richest (and strongest) red wine he ever tasted.

Jon talked about his life in Winterfell, as Rhaenys wished to know more of his childhood and to get to know him. He started with his childhood plays with Robb, how Arya was his favorite siblings, and how Bran had the most curious mind he ever met. She had offered him a grin that made Jon remember the books around the table. Jon spoke more in this night than he would in weeks, but he truly wanted his sister to know him as more than the bastard of Winterfell.

Rhaenys shared her tales of travels across Essos, that turned the conversation marvelously, as it released the initial tension. Jon never met anyone who had been to the Free Cities, much less distant cities whose names he never heard. She spoke of the great city of Qarth - the center of the sea trade; Vaes Dothrak and the trades routes; of the Slaver's Bay, that according to her was "the most horrible place I've been to", and that was saying something, for someone who referred to Volantis as "a city created to suck the soul out of me".

As the sun started to appear, Jon gathered his courage to ask the question that kept popping in his mind all night long, but never spoken, her eyes shined when she talked about what she learned, and something told him Rhaenys wasn't prone to look like that.

"How were you able to travel to all these places?" His sister was of age in which most women were wives, some even mothers. But she never even hinted at the possibility. He could not imagine Lord Stark allowing his daughters or his wife to travel in dangerous ship voyages.

Rhaenys leaned down in her chair as she explained.

"I lived my first years in exile with the Sealord of Braavos. His family is one of the keyholders and with connections all around The Free Cities." Jon had no idea who keyholders were, but most likely they were relevant people since the ruler of Braavos was one of them.

"When he died, we turned to Tyrosh, where we found shelter with the Archon. Essos in different from Westeros. In here you look down on merchants, in Essos they are praiseworthy." Rhaenys had a slight look of disdain, but Jon was still confused as what that had to do with her unconventional travels. "I was in the on the brink of maidenhood still, but I had taken a great interest in the trading business, and I was proving to be quite good at it. I was fourteen when I started to work as a trader."

"Really, but you're a woman."

Jon knew he put his foot in his mouth the moment her expression went for calm to cold, her eyes stared at him, sharp and defiantly. "I can assure you. I am quite capable of strategic thinking and financial management despite my weaker sex."

Jon lowered his gazed in hopes of hiding his embarrassment. He felt like he was digging himself into a whole. How could he make her understand? Lady Ashara, according to Rhaenys, became her guardian. She was foster by a powerful Essosi family. _Didn't they care for her safety? If she was rich, why would she work?_ It took him some time to realize the extended silence, expect the tapping of a finger on the table. When he finally looked up, she was looking at him with an unreadable expression. _Didn't they care for her safety? If she was rich, why would she work?_ It took him some time to realize the extended silence, expect the tapping of a finger on the table. When he finally looked up, she was looking at him with an unreadable expression.

"I didn't mean to imply you are incapable of being strong." The last word didn't sound as confident as he as hoping for. Strong wasn't the word he wished to use, but he could still hear saying the _weaker sex_.

Her cold eyes observed at him, awaiting his next words, Jon went with the easy question. "I just... isn't it dangerous for you to be traveling like that?"

"It is." She answered calmly. "But I have skilled guards to protect me, and a seasoned crew at my back. We take all the necessary precautions against pirate attacks, and we make sure everyone knows how to protect themselves." Jon knew what pirates do with women, especially to one as beautiful as his sister. "My ships are no less in safe than any other merchant ship."

"Do you take other women with you?" He could not imagine his sisters alone at sea with only men as companions. He did not want to picture it.

Her face didn't change expression, but her eyes soften with amusement. "Yes. My main captain is, in fact, a woman, and I have women on deck as well. It would be rather annoying having to deal with only men at long months at sea. I might send them all overboard." She added the last part with mirth in her eyes, and a smirk on her lips. It was the first one. She did let out some small laughs at some of his sibling stories.

"And everyone just ... accepts it?" He asked, uncomfortably.

"Essos is different from Westeros. In most of the Free Cities, trade is considered a more honorable pursuit, more than arms, and women are known to rise high in the world. Braavos has had female rulers before, Volantine women are part of the ruling class, and in Myr women can merchants."

"Does everyone accept it, of course not," She added with some resentment. "But there are always stubbornness women who defy the odds," She said, showing a genuine smile, with a sharp edge to it, her eyes too were soft, and there was something in her voice told Jon this was not the first time she said it.

"What is it like, to travel the world?"

She contemplated the question for some time. "Freeing." the whispered was almost unheard, a blink of an eye, and her voice was back to normal. "You get to explore places you never imagine; find cultures and meet people you never thought existed. You learn as much as about the world around you, as about yourself, even finding your place in the world in the most unrespectable of ways."

 _A place in the world_ , Jon thought dreamily.

He had thought on it long and hard, lying abed at night. Robb would someday inherit Winterfell, would command great armies as the Warden of the North. Bran and Rickon would be Robb's bannermen and rule holdfasts in his name. His sisters Arya and Sansa would marry the heirs of other great houses and go south as mistress of castles of their own. But what place could a bastard hope to earn?

"Do you plan to go back to the sea?" He asked, tentatively.

Her eyes were knowing, and her lips curled slightly. "You want to join me?"

Jon looked down, biting his lip. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her leaning closer to him. "It's alright Jon. If you wish you can come with me," she said softly.

"Where do you plan to go next?"

"The Wall." Jon's head snapped as he stared at her, shocked.

"The Wall?" Jon Snow had considered joining the Night's Watch plenty of times. He was waiting for his father to give him leave to go. But the wall was no place for women.

"I have no desire to become the next Danny Flint." Jon was surprised she knew the Northern Tale. "I just wish to see the great wonder, and meet the maester."

"The maester?"

"Master Aemon, son of Maekar, the First of his Name, and brother to Aegon who reigned after him, as the Fifth of His Name."

"Aemon … _Targaryen_?" Jon could scarcely believe it.

"Yes. He must be close to celebrating one hundred years."

"Why do you wish to meet him?"

"Many reasons. There is less than a handful of us left, and the poor man probably spent years grieving in silence. He is a maester with decades of knowledge. Can you imagine the conversations you can have with him?" Jon smiled, for a second his sister sounded so much like Bran, like a curious child.

"I can send word to my uncle Benjen and ask him if he can escort us."

"It would be better with someone who knows the terrain. I told my captain to give me ten weeks before we meet in White Harbor."

"Where do you plan to go afterward?"

"I need to stop at Braavos and Pentos, and then I'll embark on a long journey to further Essos."

"A long journey?"

"At least a year long."

Jon imagined what it would be like: traveling, exploring, not having to be the Bastard of Winterfell, and being under the cold look of Lady Stark. As he did, he heard noises coming from the closed door that must lead to the bedchambers.

"Jon." She called his attention. "It won't be an easy trip, and on my ships, you answer to me, and you obey my rules, if not, you are left behind, or you'll deal with my justice. A ship needs discipline, and you'll need to be ready for the possibility of battle."

"Robb is a stronger lance than I am, but I'm the better sword."

Her lips curled in a grin and Jon blushed at his outburst.

"Why don't you think about it while we travel to the Wall, and then you give me an answer?"

Jon nodded, as the door opened.

The man who entered the solar was clean-shaved, with an austere face. He was pulling his hair behind his head and tying in a knot. His robes were of wool, warmer than Jon's clothes. As he approached, he studied Jon with cool grey eyes and then turned his gaze to Rhaenys. "Good morning Lady Valanei." He bowed slightly.

"Morning, this is my brother Jaehaerys."

"Please call me Jon," Jon said quickly. He did not feel like a Jaehaerys. He was Jon, and he will probably always be.

"I am Haldon, the healer in our little band. Some call me Halfmaester." Jon nodded in greeting the man turned again to Rhaenys."Have you break your fast?" He asked, eyeing the empty plates.

"Not yet. I believe Rolly had first shift today, but everyone else must still be asleep."

"Two nights in a row." He commented with a raised brow.

"I'll sleep tonight."

When Jon realized what the conversation was about, he turned to Rhaenys. "You didn't need to stay up all night."

"And won't be the last," Haldon said dryly. "I shall find us some breakfast then." The halfmaster spoke, opening the outside door, Jon could hear him greeting someone on the other side.

"It is not the first time."

"And won't be the last," Haldon said dryly. "I shall find us some breakfast then." The halfmaster spoke, opening the outside door, Jon could hear him greeting someone on the other side.

As she and Jon cleaned up the desk, they didn't even try to use the larger table, with the mess that was on top of it, Jon asked.

"You have a maester?"

"Halfmaester. He studied at the Citadel but only earn six links. He works as our healer and tutor. Well, he hasn't tutored anyone in particular for some time." She sucked in a swallow and unwrinkled the nonexistent wrinkles on the tablecloth. "If you wish he can tutor you on the journey. He is a very patient teacher, and he can help you continue your studies. The gods he still a lover of Academics."

In Winterfell, Robb was always the main focus of Maester Luwin's lessons, as he was the future lord, and later on Bran. But Jon had always preferred the courtyard to the library anyways. Either way, it sounded nice to have someone whose main or only student was him. He didn't even need to pretend not knowing the answers so he wouldn't appear to be overshadowing Robb.

"The crow calling the raven black," Haldon spoke behind them as he carried a pot with hot bread, boiled eggs, bacon, and cheese. The guardsman from last night, Rolly, had in each hand a jug.

* * *

Jon noticed with amusement the scene in front of him. Rhaenys poured herself a cup of tea. She sniffed the scent before drinking it. At the same time, Haldon put two slices of bread with bacon and an egg on her plate. Before the halfmaester started preparing with his breakfast, she was already pouring herself another cup of tea.

"Tea or milk? Or both" Rolly asked him. "If the answer is the first, you better steel some while it lasts." He jested.

"I heard that," Rhaenys spoke from her cup. "You should try the tea. It's blended with blood oranges."

"I never had blood oranges." Such fruit was common in the southern regions, not in Winterfell.

"They only grow in Dorne." The halfmaster spoke in a teaching voice. "This tea is blended in specifics places in Dorne."

"Made us stop at Planky Town to buy a damn sack of it," Rolly spoke with a teasing voice as he poured himself milk.

"How sad I am that I'll have to throw away the bottle of Arbor Gold that I brought for your namesday," Rhaenys said dryly.

"That's a crime!" Rolly protested. "Wait. I am getting a bottle of gold for my namesday?"

Rhaenys answer was an enigmatic smile that had the halfmaster rolling his eyes. Jon couldn't help but laugh. It was like watching Bran and Arya, only replaced with exotic and expensive drinks. The halfmaster pour Jon a cup of each.

They eat in silence for some time. Jon gave his opinion on the tea. It was stronger than he imagined, so he ended up mixing it with milk. He didn't want outright say the taste was too sour for him since Rhaenys enjoyed it. The halfmaester spoke of his desire to observe the plants and started to explain to Rhaenys how healing changed from place to place. They spoke of buying some samples from someone named Talissa, while Rolly occasionally made some snarky comments to Jon.

"Jon told me he would try to see if his uncle who serves on the Night's Watch could guide us to the Wall, " Rhaenys informed them as they started to talk about their plans.

"It would help us a great deal. We have no idea of the conditions of the Kingsroad or the best places to rest during the night, a guide would." Haldon spoke.

"I will write to him today."

The halfmaester gave him a nod. It was Rolly who was the most cheerful of the trio and asked. "Are you planning on joining us to Essos?"

"I gave Jon time to think of it. It is not a decision one jumps into." His sister replied.

"How is your High Valyrian?" Haldon asked with curiosity

"Inexistent," Jon responded nervously.

Haldon offered him a gentle smile. "It is something not often taught in Westeros. I can introduce you to the basic sentences, those you'll use more daily in case you'll join us. But there is no need to worry. If you join us, there will always be someone who knows the language or any dialect with you."

"Don't worry. The first time I went to Essos, I knew nothing of fancy languages, and I end up fine." Rolly said with a wink.

"It is always better to be informed," Rhaenys said.

Rolly then proceeded to tell Jon, with gleeful details, how he went from being the son of a blacksmith to where he was now, from fleeing to Essos to his work on the Golden Company. "Then an old friend told me of a lady who needed protection, and my knightly vows would not allow me to deny such request."

Jon found strange the sharpness in Rhaenys's eyes at the end of the tale. Her gaze found Jon's and she went back to her serene look. "What Rolly means to say is that he found the money I paid him tantalizing, and the perks of working for me even more appealing. And I am sure I am prettier to look at that the Captain-General."

"As his formal squire, I can confirm that you are much prettier than Harry Strickland." Rhaenys lips curled in a sardonic smile before going back to her tea.

* * *

Jon found his Father as soon as he entered the courtyard of Winterfell. Robb was training with Ser Rodrik, as Bran and Arya, who probably ran away from Septa Mordane again, cheered.

"I was worried when you disappeared." Lord Stark told him, pulling him to an uncommon hug that took Jon too long to reply. It felt nice to feel his arms around him. _A father hugging his son_ , he thought.

"I apologize for worrying you," Jon said, feeling his throat tightening.

"I got word from Wintertown that you were there." Rhaenys must have sent someone. "Did you break your fast?"

"Yes. Can we speak somewhere private?"

They decided on the Godswood, instinctive pick. They sat in silence for a while, and Jon took the time to send a silent prayer to the Old Gods.

"How was your meeting?" Father asked with a heavy voice.

"We talked. Mostly about our lives. Of Essos and Winterfell" _Interesting, Rhaenys barely talked about her childhood._ Maybe she wasn't ready to share it with someone who barely knew. He spoke of his siblings because it came naturally to him. She didn't speak of anyone but Lady Ashara and the Sealord and briefly. "I wish to send a letter to Uncle Benjen, Rhae- Val." Jon corrected himself, remembering how his sister had remembered him before he left that her identity must remain a secret. "Wishes to visit the Wall." His father knew, but someone could be listening, even in the privacy of the Godswood.

"A woman at the Wall, it's too dangerous."

"She brought to two knights to protect her, and she can stay in Mole's Town. I also wished to go with her."

"To join the Night's Watch?" Father asked concern.

He shook his head. "It's a way of spending more time with Val." He confessed with a tentative look. Maybe it would help him decide between joining the Night's Watch or going to Essos, he couldn't stay in the good graces of father forever, and he was almost a man grown.

His father offered him an understanding smile. "You can send word to Benjen, then. I'll speak with Jory. It's better if you take more guardsmen with you."

"What should we tell everyone?" Jon asked. It was not like they could hide Rhaenys.

"I haven't told anyone. Arya and Robb asked for you, but I told them you were in Wintertown." He took a heavy breath. "They cannot know the truth."

"I know, but I want them to met Val." Jon was sure Arya would adore her.

"You call her Val." Father's confusion was written all over his face.

"It is the assumed identity. Valanei Sarnara. She was adopted by an influential Braavosi family. She chose her name." Jon tried not to show his jealousy. He had felt a pang of it when Rhaenys told him the tale of her name. Jon dreamt of it so many times. Having a name that was not Snow.

"Does she know you plan to tell your siblings about her?"

"I told I liked her to meet them. She warned me about the dangers of anyone finding the truth and that we needed a plan." Jon took a deep breath, knowing what would come next. He had heard the tales murmured around the castle, but never to his father's face. "We could tell them we are half-siblings on our mother side. Lady Ashara's side."

His father tried to hide the gloom on his face, but Jon still saw it.

"You wish to tarnish her name?"

 _It already_ is, Jon thought.

"Tormo Fregar, head of Val's adopted family, had a brother who died in the Stepstones and visited in Dorne. Val explained that they could pretend she was his daughter."

"With Ashara?"

"Yes. Rhaenys could add some years to her age so that Lady Ashara would still be in Dorne at the time of her pregnancy."

"Did your sister came will the plan herself?"

"Lady Ashara helped. They knew needed a cover story."

He could see the doubt in his father's face. "Talk with Val about it." Jon offered.

His father thought "Tomorrow she can come and talk with me. She can stay for supper if she wishes."

"I will tell her."

They stood in silence for an uncomfortable time, as Jon looked everywhere but his father, for a while even focusing on the raven resting in of the branches of the weirwood tree. Finally, Jon blurted. "You're still my father."

Lord Stark looked at Jon, his grey eyes hopeful.

"You're still my father. Not _him_." Jon could still not say his name. "You don't mind right?"

"Of course not, you have been my son the moment I held for the first time. I am sorry that I did not tell you sooner."

"Why didn't you?"

"At first because you were too young, but I think I would use that excuse for a long time. In truth, I didn't want you to see me as less than a father."

"I won't _ever,"_ Jon vowed. He still remembered Rhaenys harsh, but truthful words. "You saved and protected me. I will always be grateful for it."

"You are my blood, Jon." Ned Stark said with conviction, and Jon smiled.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Dreamy-Girl2016** : Thank you so much. I really like the idea that Ned wasn't the perfect pile of honor, but that his experiences shaped him to live by a strong code. And Jon will have a very different life.

 **StormNightSS** : Dany/Rhaenys. To much fire in one place ;) Dany will have her own arm candy.

 **Guest88** : Jon will have two main love interests: Arianne Martell and Daemon Sand who also happen to be in love with each other. So in a way, it will be same gender, but an F/M/M

 **Ssjmrxi** : I was more interested in the sibling aspect between the two of them, especially because each one wants different things and have ideals. They will clash many times. The Jon Not Going To The Wall started right in this chapters. Jon joined the wall because it was the only path he could see for himself. Rhaenys is showing him other ways. Jon will still be treated as a bastard by everyone who doesn't know the truth. And even those who know need to be careful. Dany character is probably the biggest change as she personally since she grew up in a healthy environment and doesn't 1000 titles to make her self-entitled.

 **fire1** : The chapter came with more exposition than I originally planned, but I needed to show how different Dany's life was, and I needed to introduce the important Dornish characters while introducing some plot, so it ended up a bit too long on the information. Jon will be involved with both Daemon Sand and Arianne Martell.

 **Guest** (1): thank you.

 **JamesSuigetsu** : and a newer one.

 **Beth** : Well it will have Jon/Arianne in it, just not as typically written. Our dragons want different things: Rhaenys is a schemer who clearly wants a crown (and more complicated things); Jon wants nothing to do with that blasted uncomfortable chair and will just want to snog Arianne and Daemon. And Dany just wants to be happy, and see children laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I think I am going to add a timeline and a list of OC character's and Rhaenys' 'household' at the begging of the story. Should I? If so what do you think I should put?

* * *

Chapter 4-

Ser Rolly Duckfield watched as his queen went back to her ledgers and old tomes as if nothing had changed. It was just another day of work to her. _Is there a day that isn't?_

Sarella Sand, Gherrio, and Haldon went to explore the town and its surroundings to observe the flora and herbalist, or whatever was that they spoke of- it evolved plants. Mae had joined them. The child wanted a chance to run around. Rolly was more interested in keeping watch over his Queen as Ser Simmon went with the three scholars.

Rolly had been Queen Rhaenys' sworn shield for three years. Three _hard_ years. Queen Rhaenys never help make his duty easy. However, he made his vows, not only as a knight or Queens Guard, as a friend. Rolly was knighted by a great man and took his Kingsguard vows in front of a greater one, but it was the promise made in a deathbed that he always remembered.

 _"Look after her. Not just with your sword and your life._ _She will have as many swords as she wishes, and many willing to die for her. She has few she can trust, that truly protect her because they care._ _Care for her, my friend. She might hiss at the idea of it, but she needs people who remind her to be more than the portrait she exposures to the world. Remind her that she can be a human."_

 _It is easy to say that to do,_ he thought. Rolly rarely saw underneath the portrait. _He could be such a poet_ , he thought, as a wave of grief hit him. Three years and he still missing the foolish boy.

Queen Rhaenys got up from her chair, tome in hand, and moved to the map covering the larger table. Her sharp eyes looked between the open pages to whatever her fingers were tracing on the map. He could see the wheels turning. The Queen spent more time gazing at maps in the last months than Ser Harry Strickland did in the years Rolly had squire for him.

The Reachman still remembered the first time he met Rhaenys Targaryen. Rolly had not liked her. She was three-and-ten and looked like a princess in her flowing white gown and her curling tresses covering her back like a dark cloak. A pretty girl, probably the prettiest Rolly had ever seen. However, she was no flowery Maiden like those ladies of the Reach or the princesses from the old songs. Rolly knew dangerous when he saw it. And he had never met a more dangerous woman than Queen Rhaenys. Back then, she was a smart girl who wanted to be a King. She behaved nothing like a highborn lady (or a woman for that matter) should, despite the pretty picture she painted. His friends were not pleased, and Rolly didn't trust her one bit.

 _They left, but I stayed._

But _he_ knew. That foolish boy knew and took him dying for Rolly to realize the truth.

 _We were idiots. She would never bow to anyone or bend to expectations. That didn't make her unnatural it made her great. You knew from the beginning, my friend. She was no pretty accessory, another pawn. And you still loved her. You loved her for it._

Rolly wondered if his Queen knew.

Rolly thought her to cold to be capable of love for a long time. He too was an idiot. She was cold, but she loved.

"She would burn the world for Daenerys and Ashara, and dance on top of the ashes just to make them happy," Vaenor told him once.

Rolly wanted to ask him if she would burn the world for him too.

 _Do you love him, my Queen? Vaenor. Is it why you couldn't love my friend? He loves you, the poor man._

Then why leave Vaenor in Volantis? Rolly understood why she left the others behind. They would have stopped whatever madness had come over her. But Vaenor would follow her to the end of the earth and would take her secrets to the grave. But he'd been left behind as well.

Rolly still wished to know what in the seven hells she was doing for almost a year. _Where_ was she? She had been the only one to survive to tell the tale. And she sure as hell wasn't talking.

Perhaps she never would.

* * *

Jon Snow had returned by midday. His Queen left the purple velvets that brought her Valyrian eyes. She used those when she wanted to show her beauty and look like royalty, with only a hint of danger and power. For a meeting with Ned Stark, of course, was a perfect choice. She had wanted to show the man she was no foolish princess but didn't want to show him the darkness underneath. For Jon Snow, well, nothing makes a man more uncomfortable than seeing his recently found sister in bedroom clothes to make him uncomfortable without her even opening her mouth.

Rolly spends too much time with Tyene Sand, to understand the power of clothing.

But now Jon Snow would have a chance to see his sister in her slightly more natural environment – if she had one. A smoke color wool dress with scarlet thread that she usually wore around Braavos, and a large light green tunic that was unlaced and whose sleeves had been rolled up to the elbow, neither screamed rich. The hem was shorter than most common on highborn and showed the woolen stockings on her feet. The ruby ring, like always, shined on her finger.

"Jon. You're back." She said in a pleasant but calm tone.

The boy looked apprehensive, blinking once his eyes gazed at her barefoot state and salt stains on the bottom of the dress. "Am I interrupting something?"

 _Probably your sister's plan for world domination_ , Rolly thought.

"I'm just looking over some work details for the journey."

"It is a business trip?"

Everything involving Rhaenys is about business.

"I cannot go on such long voyages for mere pleasure. There are always new opportunities to explore."

His Queen pointed to the chair in front of her, and Jon obeyed the silent command. The boy looked unsure of himself while Rolly could see Rhaenys trying to figure out if she should speak. Rolly chuckled to himself. _I guess there aren't books to tell you how to act with your recent discovered brother_. Jon Snow seemingly had the same problem. Or they just enjoyed long silences.

"I sent word to Uncle Benjen. I don't know if he is at Castle Black, but if he is, we'll have word by tomorrow."

"That is good. We planned to only stay in Wintertown for a few days."

"Lord Stark offered some of his men to accompany us."

"That is kind of him," she replied diplomatically. "I didn't wish to bring many with us from Barrowtown."

"Barrowtown? Not White Harbor?" Rolly understood his confusion. He did too understand the itinerary. White Harbor was the only port city in the North, and the closest to Braavos, Barrowtown located on the opposite side.

"Yes." The boy asked what she wanted him to. "One of my ships had business on Oldtown, so I took the opportunity to visit the city."

"And Barrowtown was closer than White Harbor," Jon concluded the story, and after hesitating, asked. "Did you like the city?"

"I saw a great deal. I had visited prior, but this time I had the opportunity to see more. There was a tourney, a Hightower was getting married, and I even saw the Citadel up close. A friend of mine pained the sphinxes at the gates. If you come with us remember me to show it to you, it is a beautiful painting." Rolly was surprised by the amount of information pouring from her, not that she was telling the important, but still.

"Speaking of trips. My father would like to speak with you – today if possible – and then you can have dinner with my family."

She looked thoughtfully for some heartbeats, making Jon Snow shifted in his seat. "It would be my pleasure. Am I to meet everyone?" Rolly wonders if the anxiousness is only half-faked.

Jon Snow offered her an apprehensive look. And Gods did that not make him recall Daenerys' when she wants to ask for something but feared being denied. "My sister Arya and my brothers Robb and Bran are downstairs. They wished to meet you."

"Of course. Rolly, be a darling and ask the innkeeper if we can have some food to our guess." The knight fought the need to swallow at the dry sarcasm.

Queen Rhaenys Targaryen did not like to have her plans for the day foiled.

"Jon, would you allow me a change of clothing?"

"Of course, I shall wait downstairs."

* * *

Arya Stark bounced on her chair waiting for Jon sister to appear. She had asked Jon a hundred questions about Val. Arya wanted to meet her, and Jon seemed to like her, so she must be nice. Jon described Val as a well-traveled, beautiful, if slightly strange, woman. She is a few years older than Jon, and that she grew up in Essos.

Arya asked if she was like Sansa. And Jon laughed and said no, but that she wasn't like Arya either.

Arya just hoped she didn't call her Arya Horseface or Arya Arya Underfoot. She hated when Sansa and Jeyne Poole call her those names.

Bran was asking Jon about the strange fruit they were eating when Robb's face made a great imitation of a fish. Arya and Bran turned and saw a woman walk in.

Her ivory gown decorated with snow-white beaded lace trim, embroidered around her square neckline. A collar of the same trim covered her long neck with pearls attached to it.

Arya almost signed. She was more beautiful than Sansa. And worst, dressed even more nicely. She could hear the Jeyne's smirking and name calling, and Sansa's whisperings and giggles.

Jon got up, and they all followed, Arya turned to Robb when she heard something hit wood. His face was redder than his hair. _Stupid._

"You must be Jon siblings." She said with a small smile. Not like those stupid dreamy smiles Sansa always has on. "You must be Bran." She spoke leaning gown to a small courtesy that made Bran giggle and nodded fastly.

"Robb Stark." She repeated the courtesy, while Robb blinked, repeatedly. Val's lips curled slightly but made no commentary about Robb's sudden stupidity

"Ah," she said with a pleasing smile. "You must be Brave Arya." Arya's eyebrows frowned. "My septa told me only brave women wore breeches."

Septa Mordane only said that Arya's had the hands of a blacksmith. "Then why aren't you wearing any?"

"Arya!" Robb cried. "You look pretty. I mean beautiful." He said very fast. His face now was as red as Sansa's hair. Jon was trying not to laugh, but Val was still looking at Arya.

"I am not as brave as you," she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, and laughing eyes. "I have a cousin who only wears breeches can you imagine how brave she must be?"

"I wish I only wore breeches," Arya protested.

"Then you must be even braver."

"I want a sword too." Arya tested her. Father had told her no, he did it nicely, but it was still a no. Mother had cried in protest and said ladies did not carry swords.

"I never asked for a sword, but I have a bow."

"Can I use it?" Arya asked with big eyes.

"It's a bit tall for you, but if you let me help you, I can teach you to shoot. It will be our secret." She whispered the last part in her ear, Val's face turned to her brothers. Arya did not care, she pulled her arms around Val's waist, hugging her tightly.

"Can I shoot too?" Bran asked.

Arya almost screamed. Bran was not stealing Val from Arya.

"Why not ask your parents if you can come to visit me tomorrow? If they said yes, we practice, but we need to keep the archery a secret?"

"Why?" Bran asked. He could be so stupid sometimes.

"That way when you are good, you can surprise father. So, we cannot tell anyone, or they ruined the surprise." Robb explained, offering Arya a smile over Bran's hair.

Arya knew Robb was stopping Bran from speaking, because Father would not allow Arya to come, and would get into troubles. _Val too. I already like her_.

Robb pushed Val's chair for her to sit, offering what Arya was sure was a try at a charming smile.

"Jon said you have traveled to many lands. Where? How? How was it? What did you see?" Bran asked with large, shiny eyes, almost as soon as she sat.

"Calm down, runner. One question at a time." Jon teased.

Arya leaned over, and she listened to the tales. Robb did the same, but his blue eyes were shining. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Jon giving him many strange looks, but Arya just ignored them. The tales were much more interesting.

Val was fascinating. Arya wanted to be like her, even if she wore dresses. She told amazing stories, traveled, and instead of a stupid husband had a bow. She never spoke of gallant knights or beautiful maidens, nor did she spoke of clothes.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Poor little Starks, they are so easy to charm. I spent a lot of time deciding between an Arya's or a Robb's POV. Arya won. Robb basically drooled the entire (it is not like he sees many pretty ladies in Winterfell, poor growing boy), and Rhaenys looks "exotic" to him. Arya turned out to be very interesting because it touches a bit on her insecurities.

 **Morgan** : I am glad you like it. Honestly, one of the main reasons I wrote this is because I just wanted a story where Dornish scheming is actually worth it, since I love the Martell's, and Elia _deserved so much better!_ , I couldn't keep her alive, but her _daughter_ (because Dorne doesn't care about gender, and is the one who looks like her) will end up getting justice.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Catelyn Stark arrived at the solar were the private dinner would be served. The Lady of Winterfell remembered all of her teachings about a ladies patience and courtesy and tried to ignore how much she just wanted to be in her chambers.

There were many times when Catelyn found herself thinking about Jon Snow's mother, that shadowy secret love her husband would never speak of. She never got the answer to the secret.

Until now.

In the first year of her marriage, the castle whispered _her_ name. They whispered of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, deadliest of the seven knights of Aerys's Kingsguard, and of how their young lord had slain him in single combat. And they told how afterward Ned had carried Ser Arthur's sword back to the beautiful young sister who awaited him in a castle called Starfall on the shores of the Summer Sea. They say she threw herself into the sea in despair.

The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes.

Catelyn took a deep breath, she was yet to meet the other bastard the Dornish beauty seemed to have birth, but she already dreaded it. Will she look like the famed beauty who gave birth to her? Will it make Ned remember the lost love, and make him forget Catelyn? She could not think like that. Ned had never strayed from their marriage vows after the war.

As she entered the chambers, with Sansa by her side, and Rickon on her arms, Catelyn noticed they were the only ones who hadn't arrived already. Robb was sitting by his father side, followed by Jon, but it was the slender beauty talking with Arya that made Catelyn stop.

"Are you feeling already Mother?" Sansa asked.

"Yes, my sweetling," Catelyn replied trying not to focus on the way her younger daughter was cheerfully talking or the way Robb's eyes always went back to the girl in white.

 _Was if it is not Ned I have to worry about?_

Bastards were wanton and treacherous by nature, what if she plans to seduce her Robb? Court favor with the Stark heir or worse make herself the Lady of Winterfell

"Cat, Sansa," Ned called them to the table, and Catelyn remembered that her son would not fall for such trick nor her Ned would allow such disgrace.

After they finished the introductions, Catelyn couldn't help but noticed the perfect courtesy performed by the girl. Even her pose and expression screamed of highborn lady's education. She should have asked Ned more about Ashara's daughter, instead of closing herself in her chambers.

They sat to eat, and it was Sansa who broke the silence, asking the same question going over in Catelyn's mind. "Why is your last name Sarnara? Should it be Sand? Are you married?"

There was not even a little blink at the mention of the bastard name for the girl. "In the Free Cities, you can make your own name. It is a practice very common in both the sellswords companies and in trade."

"Like the Golden Company?" Bran interrupted.

"Yes, many Westerosi make a name there."

Catelyn did not like the sound of it. It was normal for knights who had no way to gain money or were exiled to become sellswords, but those were men, not beautiful bastard girls whose mother Ashara Dayne.

"But women can't be sellswords," Sansa spoke, and Catelyn made a mental note to reprimand Sansa of her tone.

"Val is a merchant," Arya said with pride that concerned Catelyn, almost as much as the look on Robb and Theon Greyjoy's eyes. The latter gave a laugh at the idea, but not even that bothered the girl.

Arya had been the first to insist on following Jon Snow this morning, with Bran and Robb as well. Sansa had little interest in going, and Catelyn had been pleased, but seeing Arya acting this way, was concerning. The girl already was a trouble for the septa, the last thing they needed as bad influences.

"Women cannot be merchants." Sansa was quick to reply to her sister. Catelyn went to look at the girl to see if she took it as an insult, but the girl's face was serene, expect the eyes. Those purple eyes hid something as they looked at Sansa to explain in what made Catelyn think of master lessons.

"In Essos is common to see tradeswomen. My family has associations in the trade business, and I took a liking to it from a young age."

Catelyn could see her daughters were about to have one of their fights, and she didn't want to show the girl how fragile the girls' relationship was. She might take advantage of that.

"How do you find the North?" Catelyn asked with all the courtesy instructed in her.

"I've never seen a place like this. Jon tells me you have summer snows." She spoke around the table.

"Yes, they very common when autumn is approaching." Ned was the one who spoke.

Her husband was not entirely comfortable with the girl, and Cat wondered if it was because of her mother, her beauty, or the way she spoke about herself. Catelyn didn't know each one was worse.

"Have you seen snow before?" Bran asked.

"Yes. Once."

"Like the summer snows, or real snow."

"Real snow. I can say my adventures in it were well indulged and I have to desire to repeat them. I was so cold that I thought I was going to get frostbite." While she was trying to make it sound exciting, as one did to tell a story to a child, there was something deeper in her eyes as she spoke of the tale.

"Uncle Benjen told us about those when he last came to visit." Bran shared. "Father says he is coming to Winterfell."

Catelyn turned to Ned. He had not told her. "Valanei wishes to visit the Wall with her companions. I wrote to Benjen so he can be their guide."

"The Wall is a dangerous place for a woman." Catelyn cut in. Did the girl have no sense?

"I have no desire to stay for long, but I always wished to see it."

"Why? Women shouldn't go to the Wall." Sansa asked confused.

"It is one of the wonders of the world. I always wished to visit all of them. I cannot be so close and not see it. And my tutors would kill me if I didn't take them there."

"Tutors?" Bran asked. Always the curious one.

"Haldon and Gherrio, both accompanied me on this trip."

She then spoke about the Halfmaester and the formal slaver tutor in Meereen who she hired to teach her various sciences. Something inside her tighten, and Catelyn couldn't eat. She did not like this woman, no woman was this well-travel and highly educated, especially a bastard girl.

Her family needed to have an important reason to be so invested in her. "Where is your family from?"

"Braavos. The Fregar Family."

"I've heard that name before." Catelyn lied.

"My grandfather was the Sealord of Braavos, until his death a few years ago."

Catelyn's heart froze.

"What is a Sealord?"

"It is the ruler of Braavos." She explained to Bran. "He is elected by the magistrates and keyholders upon the death of the previous one."

"Like a Kingsmoot?" Theon spoke, and Catelyn was taken aback by it, confused by the term.

"Similar, he needs to be a member of one of the keyholders family to be allowed to compete."

"What's a Kingsmoot?" Bran asked Theon.

"It was an old Ironborn tradition. It was used to choose the High King of the Iron Islands."

The conversation changed to Theon was he tried to explain as best as he could the tradition.

* * *

Jon watched as his sister pulled the ermine cloak closer to her body as they approached the Heart tree arm in arm.

"It is not that cold." Robb, who insisted in accompany them since it was getting dark, tried to jet, but her sister just looked at him confused.

"I am not cold." She whispered and they took a few more steps in silence. "It's so quiet here." She did not say it as a bad thing, and Jon understood, he too liked the quiet of the Godswood.

Once they arrived at the weirwood tree, he listened to his sister take a deep breath. Jon had known the place since he could remember, but he could understand how it can be overwhelming.

When they stood in front of the tree, Rhaenys surprised him when she was about to kneel. Jon gripped her arm, and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're all dressed in white." Robb took the words from his mouth. He unclasped his black cape and put in on the floor before the heart tree. She gave him a curious look and a smile that made her eyes look decades younger.

"Won't you get cold?"

"I can wait by the pools, its warm there."

"I'll call you both when I'm done then."

Jon found it strange when she asked to visit the Godswood. She was raised under the Faith of The Seven, but Heart Tree was the first place Rhaenys picked.

As they left Rhaenys before the tree, Jon heard the quorking of a raven. He didn't even notice the birth in the lowest branch of the tree. Jon watched as Rhaenys offered her hand to the bird who flew only to landed on her shoulder.

Robb raised his shoulders at Jon as they looked at each other, and left her with the tree and the raven.

"Have you made a decision?" Robb asked when they sat by the pools.

"I think I am going with Val to Essos."

"I wish I could go with you." It was the first time in his life that Robb wanted something Jon had. The heir of Winterfell couldn't just leave on a journey. "You better tell me all about it. And the Wall."

"We could ask uncle Benjen to help us convinced Father to let you come with us to the Wall."

Robb's blue eyes shined with glee.

"Now, are you sure Val is your sister? I mean she likes books and is intelligent. And you're not." Jon elbowed him.

"She is," Jon said, then after a few seconds added with a softer tone. "Do you think we look alike?" Any similarities would come from their father. Jon would be lying if he said he wasn't curious to see if he had some trait from Rhaegar Targaryen.

"If you know what you're looking for, you can see you're related. She is much prettier, and-" Jon could hear the dreaming tone and he was sure Robb's face couldn't be better.

"No," Jon cut in with a glare.

"I mean nothing by it,"

Jon had caught Robb locking lips with girls too many times not to know better. "You're a terrible liar Robb Stark. She is my sister."

"I know," Robb said with a heavy tone. "Jon you know I would never disrespect her."

 _For that, I have to Theon for enough worry_. "Did she tell you if there was some merchant lout interested?"

"You've known her for a _day_."

"I know."

"Stop saying that. And no. I didn't ask if she had a line of oaks wanting to marry her. It is not something you ask your sister, right?"

Should he ask about her marriage prospects? Did she have a dowry? Is she in love with someone? Is she betrothed to someone?

"You're asking me? Like I know."

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Talyn01:** That is the thing, to Rhaenys (and Dorne) she is the rightful Queen, as no one south of Moat Callin would insider the marriage legit. Rhaegar already had Aegon and was expecting a Visenya so it really didn't think things through. But yes, in this case succession is very _very_ messy.

 **South Down** : Thank you

 **jmeec316:** I'm glad you enjoyed Arya hero-worshiping, it is in fact the bets term for their relationship. I have a very soft spot for Arya as my favorite Stark so bring her is always nice.

 **I.C.2014** : I'm glad you noticed the lack of Sansa, at this point, it made no sense to have Sansa reacting positively to Rhaenys/Val. Yes she is curious (mostly because Rhaenys is well traveled) but not like Arya.

 **Hadrian Eveningshade** : Thank you for your review, even if you didn't found it to your taste


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sansa Stark didn't like the Dornish bastard.

Valanei Sand has been in Winterfell for over a fortnight and has been nothing but a troublesome presence. She was responsible for mother and father fighting, for Robb completely lack of attention, and Theon's swollen wrist, and was distracting the servants from their duties since they were incapable of talking about anything else.

It is in her blood, she reminded herself of her septa words, bastards are treacherous by nature, and the Dornish ones are the worst of all, making her much more promiscuous and wanton because of her it. Septa and mother had warned them to stay away from her, but Arya being Arya has been following the Dornish bastard around, acting like a commoner by riding to Wintertown with Jon (and sometimes Robb and Bran) to meet with her, begging for stories of Essos and not stopping retelling them at supper. At least her sister has been acting less like a wild animal in their lessons.

 _"_ _Did you know Val has been to all the Free cities and has traded in most?"_ Theon had made a very crude comment about what she must have been trading that made Father use his lord voice and Robb almost hit him. Sansa saw that her mother silently agreed with Theon and later Jeyne had explained to Sansa had Theon meant Val was trading her body and calling her a whore. Sansa was shocked by Jeyne's language but had agreed.

 _"_ _Val told me she has been to Qarth. It is considered the greatest city that has ever existed, but Val doesn't agree. She likes their walls, whatever that means. She showed me little the knights made of precious stones, they were the size of fingers."_ Sansa had scowled Arya at that story. Her sister should know a lady should never lie. But with the company she kept, it shouldn't surprise Sansa. The only good thing was that her half-brother seemed to have moved into the Wintertown inn, bringing some happiness to mother's face.

Jon informed them that he would be traveling to Essos with Val after visiting the Wall. Sansa was glad the woman is leaving. Arya, while acting less like a wild girl in lessons, even if slightly, spent all mornings in Wintertown, and Sansa had heard Mother argue with Father about it. She didn't like the influence the bastard had over Arya. But Sansa could see Mother was happy that Jon was leaving.

Sansa rarely sees Valanei, since she spends little time inside the walls of Winterfell. She comes every day to bring Arya back before lunchtime with Jon, then visit the Godswood, and she returns to the small town.

Father invited the bastard for supper, again, and while Mother was displeased, she told Sansa to behave like a lady. Sansa was the perfect lady. She took the place as far from the Valanei who sat between Arya and Jon. Bran and Robb followed on each side, and Father took his normal seat next to Robb. Mother and baby Rickon sat at his left while Sansa and Theon, who seemed to be fearful of Val since what happened a few days ago, sat on the other side end of the table. Uncle Benjen arrived yesterday and took the seat next to Bran.

"My father's family is known for trade. I work in the business that why I travel so much." Val was explaining to Uncle Benjen who had asked the same question everyone asked.

"And your father lets you?" Uncle Benjen asked with a strange look.

Sansa tried not to speak too much. There was little that she wanted to hear about Val either way. What else could the bastard have to share? Sure, she lived in Braavos, but all she had learned the city seemed like a rainy Winterfell, not at all beautiful. _Most of her stories weren't that interesting anyway._

Sansa had wanted to ask about where the fashion of her clothes came from but stopped herself from it. The ivory samite gown, with a square neckline, narrow sleeves, and belted with a cloth-of-silver sash was so different from everything Sansa has seen. She had the same lace and peals choker from the last time. _She looks beautiful._ Sansa kept her thoughts to herself, besides the bastard clearly did not understand she should not dress in such fashion, it was well above her status.

"My father died many years ago."

"How did he die?" Arya asked with a sad face, and even Sansa felt pity.

"He struck down by a storm when I was four." She replied making Jon's eyes pop, but they got distracted when her Lord father and Uncle Benjen when they chocked on the wine.

"Have you ever been to King's Landing?" Sansa found herself asking, tired of the strange silence and odd looks. The bastard might not have been to the Red Keep, but she might have seen its greatness from far away.

"A long time ago." She replied with the same coolly tone as when she explained the cause of her father's death.

"King's Landing must have been small compared to Essos," Arya said, and Sansa almost rolled her eyes. King's Landing was the greatest city in the world, everyone knew.

The bastard chuckled shortly at Arya, ignoring Sansa' indignant expression and focused in the youngest Stark daughter. "Very small. Qohor has closest proximity in population to King's Landing. But in Braavos live around 800,000and Volantis has more than a million people."

Sansa could not imagine so many people living in a place alone.

"What's your favorite city?" Uncle Benjen seemed to have found his voice.

"Braavos."

"Volantis." Arya and Bran replied at the same time.

Uncle Benjen laughed and turned to Val who seemed to be thinking that for a while.

"Myr."

"It sounds boring compared to Braavos," Arya said.

"Myr has the beauty of Highgarden and the knowledge of Oldtown."

"In a way, I wonder if that makes Tyrosh the Stormlands, and Lys Dorne."

No one except uncle Benjen and Robb seemed to have understood. "Because they are always fighting?" Robb asked her.

"Basically."

* * *

Benjen Stark coughed as the alcohol burned in his throat. Ned didn't seem to be reacting better. The two brothers and the girl had retired to the Lord's office to talk privately. After some business talk, they decided to open the bottle she had brought from Tyrosh. Benjen had laughed at the how little liquid she filled onto the cups. Benjen was starting to understand the reason.

"I did warn you pear brandy was stronger than your typical wine." Rhaenys Targaryen taunted them, drinking her own glass without trouble.

Benjen Stark had spent the entire night looking at Rhaenys Targaryen. Not a hard mission, she was the loveliest sight, the ranger had beheld in a long time. The mix of the ethereal beauty of Valyria with the sultry of the Rhonyar was a dangerous and bewitching combination.

And Rhaenys Targaryen was dangerous.

One doesn't survive North of the Wall without learning to read more than just terrain. It took Benjen 10 minutes in her presence to know the truth: Rhaenys Targaryen could be ten-and- seven, but those large eyes looked closer to seventy, and she stood as tall and straight as a warrior. It took more than just the tragedy of her childhood to make someone look like that.

"If I didn't know better I'd said you're trying to get us drunk." Benjen teased, but he did notice she had not tasted the red wine she brought with her. The best wine he ever tasted, more than worth the trip.

Benjen had been shocked by Jon's letter about his newfound sister and wishing to visit the Wall. He had tried to make sense of it until Ned's letter arrived soon after. Ned's words however cut straight to the point: Jon knows.

After all, it didn't take a brilliant mind to realize who the girl was. It took some time to understand how it was possible, and Benjen was surprised Dorne hadn't declared war, but Ned confessed that the girl had not informed her family of her survival.

Because the tale had to be sadder.

"Why the desire to visit the Wall?"

"Two reasons: it is the only wonder made by men I haven't seen." Benjen stared at her, that was more than impressive. "And I want to meet my uncle."

"Uncle?" Ned asked confused, but Benjen was expecting this. There had to be another reason, the _true_ reason, why she would risk going to such a dangerous place.

"Maester Aemon I would gather."

"Is there another uncle at the Wall that I don't know about?" she drawled, voice just about dripping with sarcasm. Benjen was starting to like the woman and her humor.

"You didn't say."

"- I didn't trust you." she cut Ned off, socking the Lord of Winterfell with her straightforwardness. "If I told you I wanted to meet my uncle you would even let me finished. Or worse you would tell someone or accuse me of plotting something."

"Then why Benjen?" Ned sometimes could be dense.

"Because he knows Aemon. He worked for the same organization as him for more than a decade. I am told that creates bonds. I know little of him, but he is the only blood I have left that I can talk to and not be considered treason."

"He is an extraordinary man." Benjen cut in, knowing Ned would not win the staring contact. "The wisest I've ever known. And I think it would do him good meeting you. The man deserves it after so much silent suffering. And so do you." She nodded solemnly.

"We can go as soon as you wish."

"Two days." She nodded. "We live at first light. You will stay at Mole's Town, its saver. I spoke with Commander Mormont, to tell him Maester Aemon is receiving you as a health visitor and will be staying under observation for a week."

"Thank you," she said softly.

"As I said, he deserves a chance to meet some of his family again." Besides if Jon saw what waited for him at the Wall, maybe he would be so easy to throw away his life by taking the Black.

* * *

Jon watched as his sister sat cross-legged by the fire, book in hand, the light giving the light she needed to read the tome she had borrowed from the Winterfell library. Jon watched as his sister sat cross-legged by the fire, book in hand, the light giving the light she needed to read the tome she had borrowed from the Winterfell library. Sarella was in conversation with Mereenese, Jon knew she was learning the language of Old Ghis. Jon just finished one of his lessons of High Valyrian from Haldon, which uncle Benjen joined, more for a pastime than true desire to learn the language, when some members of the party started to prepare to call the night.

Most of the trip was actually filled with lessons. Haldon took any opportunity to teach Jon the language he would need the most in Essos, and the time he spent with Rhaenys was spent developing his knowledge on the cultural differences of the various cities. Jon gathered that they would spend most of their time in Braavos and Pentos, the main focus of Rhaenys lessons since she only made some comments about Volantis, Myr, and Lys.

While Jon tried to spend time with each member of their trip, Rhaenys seemed to have found closeness with Uncle Benjen. They spent rides talking about the various folk and legends North of the Wall. Uncle Benjen seemed to bring out Rhaenys dry wit in a way that Jon didn't even know she had. Nor did he realized how well-educated uncle Benjen was about the Wildlings.

Four Stark guardsmen, Alyn, Tomard, Wyl, and Heward traveled with them, adding a total of twelve in the party, and twenty horses. Rhaenys had desired a faster speed, and being the only woman (that they knew of since Sarella was still having fun playing at being a boy) made the Stark men treat her differently. The behavior changed, when, on the fourth day, Rhaenys joined them with her own bow for hunting. From her training with Arya, Jon already knew she was very skilled in archery, but seeing his graceful sister skinning her game was a shock.

Rhaenys exchanged her beautiful gowns in favor of bearskin cloak and woolen breeches, all in shades of white, since the moment they left Winterfell, and the crown of braids she normally wore was replaced by a thick braid that fell to her waist. But most impressive was the short recurved bow made of dragonbone she wore slung over her back. Sarella weapon of choice was also a bow, that one made of goldenheart tree, that she explained only grew in the Summer Islands. It was impossible to confuse one with the other, much like the arrows, Sarella favored green and orange, while Rhaenys scarlet feathers decorated the black quiver.

For someone who rarely wore her house colors, his sister favored weapon screamed Targaryen.

"Val," Jon called, and his sister barely looked from the book. At the second try she did turn to him, clearly displeased with being interrupted. "You should probably retire for the night." He spoke tentatively.

For a second she narrowed her eyes at him, before looking down at her book and to where the rest of the party was ready to retire. "I'll stay for some time. I got more hours of sleep than anyone else in the party."

Since Jon had volunteered to kept watch with Rolly, who was having a quiet conversation with uncle Benjen. Jon regarded Rhaenys and not for the first time (and most likely not the last) was astounded at how eccentric Rhaenys was. He has spent two weeks in her presence, spending every day trying to figure her out. Something he knows for a fact Robb did as well. Theon stopped doing it after the episode when he tried to tempt Rhaenys into his bed as he did with any other woman. He cornered in what he believed was an empty corridor, Rhaenys had in pushed against a wall with a short dagger (Jon still doesn't know where it came from) pressed into his neck. But true fear clouded the Ironborn when Rhaenys whispered in his ear. Whatever she said made Theon start to look at her like she was some predator ready to kill at a sign of weakness. It worked better than the fight Robb had started the next morning.

"Why do you read so much?"

That seemed to wake Rhaenys from whatever spell she was in, as purple eyes regarded Jon, head tilted slightly to the side.

"I love reading, and I like knowing things." She replied with a shrug. Jon had expected that reply. In a way, she was a lot like Bran, except Rhaenys loved books in a way Jon never saw before.

She closed the book after marking it with a green ribbon. "There are whole worlds waiting to be discovered in books, knowledge ready to be explored." Her eyes shone the same way Arya's did when she first held Rhaenys' bow, paired up with the soft smile gracing her face, she looked like a different person.

"I have the opportunity and the means to discover and explore, so I shouldn't I? Especially if the motive is something deeply enjoy, and I have the wits for it, should it not be a fault of mine to let it go to waste?"

Jon nodded, still reviewing her speech as she got up and went to her tent.

 _The more I look, the less I see._

* * *

Rolly Duckfield pushed his coat tighter against his body and wondered why he had been the first to volunteer to come North. His brothers were enjoying the warmness of Dorne while he froze on the snow.

The closest they got to the Wall, the colder it got. It had not been the coldest weather he ever faced, but that was something Rolly did not wish to recall.

 _"Not all of us are ready to know the truth. Sometimes it smashes all we know. Do you want the truth?"_

Rolly was the son of a blacksmith and washerwoman who dreamt of being a knight. He accomplished his task, rising higher than he imagined. Unlike his Queen, he did not seek all the truths of the world. He was a simple man and wished to stay that way.

It had been easy to reply to that question.

As he watched the dark circles around Rhaenys Targaryen eyes, and the way she clinched to her books for distraction or the horse reins as she rode, withdrawing into herself more and more as days passed, Rolly congratulated himself for having picked the right answer. Then, he worried for his Queen.

He marveled how no one seemed to be picking up the fact that she wasn't sleeping. Benjen Stark suspected, and even asked Rolly. Benjen Stark had spent the entire trip trying to assess Rhaenys, to no conclusion. Nervousness about meeting Aemon was the reason Rolly gave. It was a truthful answer, just not the entire story.

 _I hope the old man has the answers you need._

"Extraordinary." Haldon awe of the big ice wall in front of him made Rolly grin.

"Brandon the Builder greatest creation." Rhaenys voice took a low tone, as her eyes searched the tall constructions as if waiting for something.

"Let's settle everyone in the town."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : A new chapter. A new character POV. I hope I wasn't too hard on Sansa or made her very cruel.

 **Charles Ceaser** : I am glad you enjoyed the chapter.

 **Bella-swan11** : Jon will appreciate all the family he was, and I think he and Daenerys will have a very close siblings like relationship as they have a lot in common in terms of background. As I said in this chapter, Jon will leave Winterfell to explored Essos.

 **Guest** : Thank you. The different points of views and the lack of Rhaenys POV are to show the various reactions to her, to introduce but maintain a certain mystery about her. Catelyn and Rhaenys will have a very strained relationship for various reasons (mostly because of Jon and Catelyn's decisions). A Rhaenys POV will come sooner. I can confirm that Rhaenys has magic knowledge.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

She hid behind the door to watched the scene in front of her. Mamma was telling papa about her letters and making some witty comment about a golden lioness and her claws that made papa let a laugh as he played his harp beautifully for her. Papa played before she went to sleep, but mama wasn't trying to fall asleep, she was sitting on a black table surrounded by parchments, dressed in papa's robes instead of a sleeping gown.

Mama and Papa kept talking about some King, and they were worried for grandmamma, but she didn't understand why. Grandmamma seemed well the last time she visited grandpapa's castle. Grandmamma was one of her favorite people. She always sang to her and gave her sweets. They shared a bed in her red castle, and she would read to her _all_ the time. She didn't like grandpapa, but mama told her to never say it out loud.

Papa had turned sad, and mama did what Rhaenys wanted to do, walked to him and put her arms around him. Mama was up, so papa's face rested on mama's breasts. She was murmuring something Rhaenys couldn't hear. Eventually, papa faced mama but put his arms around mama's waist and gave her a smile that was very rare but very precious – mama said so.

"You are the light of my life, Elia," Papa said softly, but she could hear in the silence of the night. "My sweet sun."

Mama to smiled Papa. Papa was right mama was like the sun. She even had one in her banner. Rhaenys had learned it from her septa. She smiled brighten when papa kissed her belly.

"Perhaps we could take a day off and enjoy a picnic by the seaside?"

"Yes!" she jumped inside the room, not letting papa say no. They both turned to her, and she offered them a smile that always made grandmamma give her more sweets and Papa let her read past bedtime.

"Rhaenys, should you not be in bed?" Mama said, but Rhaenys looked at her with a pout moving her feet in circles.

Mama smiled and turned to papa, who was still sitting with his arms around mama. "She pouts like you. I cannot say no to that pout. I fully blame you, husband." Mama had made papa laughed (not loud like some guest that made Rhaenys had hurt with how loud they were).

"Come where sweetling." She did as Papa said and fitted herself between Mama and Papa who pulled her to his lap.

Rhaenys touched Mama's belly- her sibling was in there. She did not understand why he was there or how it fitted. She had asked mama, but she just told her one day she would understand. Rhaenys wanted to understand it _now_. She followed Papa and Uncle Arty everywhere, but neither seemed to want to tell her. They did smile at her, much like Mama, uncle Arty blamed papa for Rhaenys 'endless questions about everything'.

"Is my sister finally coming?" Rhaenys had asked for the hundred times that week.

"Not yet sweetling, another month." Mama had answered. She always did. Papa said many times that Mama had the patience of an angel. Rhaenys had agreed with Papa that mama was an angel.

Her sister was so slow, Rhaenys complained, making Papa laugh loudly.

"Maybe it is a brother." Papa had told her, making her pout. "You don't want a brother?"

"I want a girl so I can braid her hair while mama braided mine." She explained to papa, then turned to mama. "Sometimes Papa is really silly."

She didn't understand why it was so funny, but they were laughing. Rhaenys ignored, people seemed to be always laughing.

"Maybe you can braid your brother's hair," Papa said with a glint in his eyes.

Rhaenys thought of Papa's response and looked at his long hair. She held some of it on her hands and started to twist it, she ignored Papa's complains, and mama's laughs. She braided a small braid around papa's ear and nodded. She could braid Papa's hair.

"Is my brother's hair going to be as big as papa's?" She asked Mama. Papa's hair was silver, straight like grandfathers, but Mama's hair was like hers black and curly.

"Not in the beginning sweetling."

"We can't read to me, or play for me. And now he doesn't have hair. He'll be useless."

Suddenly the little girl grew taller and older. Shivers of cold ran along her spine, and warm tears wet her cheeks, sharp and high like the man who disappeared before her eyes. The room became dark and darker. There was no sun, no stars, only darkness and cold, the ground disappeared bit by bit. Panic tightened her heart, as ice filled her lungs. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rage. She wanted to cry.

 _I told you, the answer is flying, not crying._ The familiar crow next to her made her burn with anger.

She wanted to twist the small neck until it broke.

She wanted to rip feather by feather with painful precision.

"Go away." She seethed. The ground below her looked so far away. _Not again, not again, not again._

 _You'll die when you hit the ground_ , the crow said.

"I am going to make sets of arrows with your feathers."

 _You can use them to kill our enemies_ , he said, and Rhaenys could almost see the grin. Suddenly the pile of bones that haunted her dreams for so long gained faces, covered in gore and burns. Faces she longed to see justice and vengeance delivered to, looking so beautiful broken.

All of a sudden, the coldness didn't feel bad.

* * *

Rhaenys Targaryen woke up with a startled, as cold sweat drip over her burning body. The linen sheet wrapped around her body like a cocoon, irritating her boiling skin. _I won't be sleeping anymore. There was no point in saying in bed._ She got up on shaking legs, found the heavy dressing gown on the chair next to the bed. She pulled it over her naked body and tightened loosely.

Her skin still burned as she opened the window. The raven was waiting for her. Black eyes fixed on her with an assessing, wary look.

She was not surprised by the bird or the cold tone in her voice. "When my work is done, I am going back to that cave, and I am going to kill you, my dearest uncle."

Anyone else would shift under the threatening tone, the dark promise of pain and suffering. A tone she didn't use in front of many, and those who listen didn't have the time to spread the word.

"Work, work, work."

Rhaenys calmed her mind and reminded herself that Skinchanging ravens were useful weapons and that she could not snap his little neck. She had long mastered the art of ignoring her dreams until she could vent her anger into more useful means.

She opened her clothes chest and picked up her clothes for the day. She might as well start working, even if the sun was still yet to rise, she can light up someone candles.

* * *

Mole's Town was larger than what she imagined, but the most curious was the fact that most of the village lies beneath the ground in deep, warm cellars and vaults, connected by a warren of tunnels. Since it was still summer, they were capable of taking residence in one of the houses above ground. It was the large house, opened for the propose of their visit, and from the construction (stone, old and resistant) it was once a place used as either an inn or a higher class residence.

Mole's Town belonged to Brandon's Gift, and much like all Gift, it made Rhaenys wanted to bang her head on a wall. She knew the Gift's conditions would leave a lot to be desired, as the lands were left much to fend for themselves over the years, to be abandoned or decline with time. Most holdfasts were destroyed or in terrible conditions, and the population was scarce, even in comparison with the rest of the North.

The gift pays their taxes to the Night's Watch. How can they gather numbers when they barely can collect food? _Repopulation of the Gift would the greatest boom for the Night's Watch. But who wants to come here? A hard journey in hopes of a better life? They would not pick the Gift. Or even remember it ex_ ists. It would take years she doesn't have to make it close to what she wished.

Rhaenys sat on the chair and opened one of her leather journals. The small and neat handwriting in Rhoynish filled the pages. The language, long forgotten to the world but for a small group, was part of any member of House Martell education. She made sure to master the language after taking lessons from the age of thirteen. But she needed to carry a wordbook to consult.

Rhoynish was difficult to learn, mostly because it came with a new alphabet, but with the Andals influence over the centuries, not even the Orphans of the Greenblood were capable of retaining the purity of the language. It pained her to think of the lack of written records. The Rhoynish Wars destroyed much of the libraries, and no books survived to this day. There were copies, but those were edited to keep in time with the advancement of the language.

But like her mother, her hers before her, she made sure to honor her people. Learning their ways was the less she could do. Besides, there were many advantages of speaking and writing languages that most don't understand.

She dipped the nib in the black ink bottle and began to write what she had been processing about the North since she left Winterfell. She knew Rolly would come to call her when was time to eat. Rhaenys had always lost herself in her work or leisure pursuits to remember mundane tasks. It didn't take Ashara long to realize, and she made sure Rhaenys was feed at appropriate hours as a girl, nowadays it seemed to be added to her knights' tasks.

Rhaenys was satisfied with it, as it removed something insignificant her brain didn't need to keep remembering.

Tomorrow Master Aemon Targaryen would arrive, but Rhaenys didn't need his council to know the Night's Watch wouldn't last long. But the old Targaryen had the knowledge she needed. Family and political understanding that she lacked since they never had an adult member of House Targaryen besides them growing up.

Benjen Stark, for all his precaution about her, gave her enough information to come to the conclusion she longed suspected. The Night's Watch will crumble to the wildings way before Winter came.

 _Good for you Mance._

The hedonistic fool was drunk in alcohol and sex to understand the problems coming, and Jon Arryn while being a competent Hand (he has been ruling the country since the Rebellion) wouldn't live until Winter to prepare the country for what was to come.

Neither will the Lannister's last untouched, she thought with a dangerous grin.

Soon the country would be at war on various fronts. And war always brought opportunities.

* * *

The sound of steel on steel echoed around them, as Rhaenys sipped her strong blend tea. The men had taken to training while she read the most glorious words and touched the most precious pages she read in a long time. Finding _Dragonkin_ in Winterfell was a delightful surprise.

The book might not have a lot of biological information on dragons, but it contained a vast knowledge of the Targaryen family history. Maester Thomax might have scorned the link of Valyrian Steel but the copper link of History had been his most thoughtfully studied, and it was recognizable as she read page after page on her family history. The drawings on the pages were also attractive. The book had been written during the reign King Baelor and had many references to Grandmaesters words about the members of the family.

Like all books, one must be mindfulness and not take anything as dogmatic. It did contract Septon Barth in all but history.

Dany will enjoy reading about their family, and no one would miss the tome in Winterfell.

The sound of cheers made her turn to the field, where Rolly was defeated by Benjen Stark with a dirty move that she didn't expect from a Stark.

Benjen Stark raised in her consideration as days went on. The man had a sense of humor and a sharp perception not often in seen highborn. It must have come from his years as a ranger, and it was clear to see he felt much as home in a band of men in the middle of the woods than in the comforts of a Great Hall. Benjen Stark reminded her of Obara. The oldest Sand snake was a warrior through and through and lived to serve and protect. But it didn't mean they were ignorant.

The members of House Stark weren't surprising to her. Lord Eddard Stark was clearly made for the North but with a strong Vale education. Honor was something that the Vale lacked lately, however. It was interesting to see Jon Arryn raised at least one of his fosterlings right. However, Ned Stark seemed to have forgotten the importance of fosterlings as there was no one besides the squid.

Rhaenys took noticed on the political mistake but kept it to herself.

His heir was what one would expect from a son of Ned Stark. Dutiful, and from what she saw in the courtyard, a strong warrior in the making. He seemed to have taken a fancy on her, but that was hardly something Rhaenys care for. She knew how she looked, having boys fancying her was something she got used to it. But she enjoyed seeing the expression on Lady Catelyn's face.

Sansa Stark was a pretty flower with air between her ears, and she almost felt sorry for the girl. _Almost_. She was a copy of her mother and was a product of her education when one question it life. Rhaenys never had the patience to tolerate foolish girls, and wouldn't waste time trying to. But it was the lack of presence on Jon's farewell that sealed her importance (or lack of) to Rhaenys.

Arya and Brandon were her favored Stark's. Arya reminded her of her youngest cousins, especially Elia Sand. But high born girls like Arya, with wild free spirits, could be easily crushed by society. Rhaenys still recalled the pure glee on Arya's Stark face when she held the bow. If Lord Stark was smart and didn't wish to make history repeat itself, he would put a sword on the girl's hand, and take great care on the girl's marriage prospects. And make sure Catelyn Stark had no saying in it. A pretty emptied headed knight might work for Sansa Stark, but Arya needed someone who accepted her for who she was or she would break.

It hurt to look at Brandon Stark sometimes. The childish desire to learn, the idealism about the world, the kindness he gifted to anyone despite their status. It reminded her of sweet Griff, of the girl she could have been had not reality came knocking in the form of Ser Amory Lorch.

Catelyn Tully-Stark made all her negative thoughts go away. Every time she looked at Rhaenys with those judgmental Tully eyes, or the way she made sure to turn Sansa Stark on her and by consequence onto Jon, it gave her a feeling of satisfaction. Rhaenys took great satisfaction in silently pushing the woman's buttons. And when she turned those eyes on Jon, the viciousness inside Rhaenys purred with delight. Catelyn Tully-Stark would learn soon not to mess with what _hers_.

And Jon Snow was coming close to be one of _her_ people.

She didn't expect to, but it was easy to be found of the boy. Bastards are easily squeezed by society because they all desire a place in the world and rarely do they grow above their last name. Jon Snow was no Daemon Blackfyre, not yet at least, and he would never be an Aegor River, it was not in his nature.

Jon was young, impressionable and willing to see outside his views from the conversation they had, and they share the same _melancholic_. Rhaenys choose to call it solemn instead. It is what she does when describing herself.

But most of all, he reminded her of Dany.

She had been debating how she felt about that. He might not realize, but Jon Snow was dangerous. Not dangerous like herself, few people were, and she would not allow that. And the moment he would be dangerous to Dany he would die. But dangerous to her plans, to her goals.

And that was a complication.

Rhaenys _did not_ _like_ complications.

Her brother laughed at something Rolly said to Benjen Stark, and she finished her tea, her eyes drift to the Wall, visible even from Mole's Town. She could feel her insides turning to ice. She shook those thoughts away. She could not allow herself to think about it outside the privacy of her chambers.

It didn't take a great amount of deduction to realize Jon wanted to follow his youngest uncle footsteps and become a member of the Night's Watch. A shrewd voice reminded her that would be for the best. She wouldn't need to worry about succession laws if Jon took the black, and it would make her allies relieved, especially those without qualms in removing treats.

Then she remembered what was coming to the Wall. She would never allow someone that was _hers_ to be there.

Besides, she needed Jon, and Dany deserved someone like Jon to call family. Dany might love the Martell's, but they are not blood to her. She needed someone who shared her kindness and her hopefulness and still had the blood of the dragon.

Rhaenys had buried that with her mother and brother, and buried much more as years went on.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I hope you liked getting inside Rhaenys head. I have to confess I do enjoy writing from her POV.

 **.792** : I am glad you enjoy this story. I'll be a bit hard on Sansa and Catelyn mainly on Rhaenys POV because of her possessiveness "tendencies" and because she is petty when it comes to those two.

 **South Down** : Jon Con will appear when the story moves to Essos. As it has been implied Aegon (who was not a Targaryen in this story) is death.

 **Bella-swan11** : Jon will enjoy his place in the Targaryen family, but it will be complicated, Targaryen's relationships tend to be. Uncle Aemon will come next chapter.

 **Charles Ceaser** : Thank you.

 **Guest (1):** The south does not accept polygamy, Aegon was the exception, and his sons had to face the faith afterward. Rhaenys demonstrates in this chapter some of the complexity when it comes to inheritance.

 **Morgan** : Arya's admiration will only grow with the years, and their relationship will be a main focus in the War Five Kings comes. Both will influence the other a lot. Arya will be the first Stark child to learn the truth. I always saw book 1 Sansa as one of those rich, queen B cheerleader types with no knowledge of the world, and to me, she was a bully when it came to Arya. Benjen Stark is the only Stark with common sense, and Rhaenys acknowledges that.

 **Nanold** : Your review left me to so please because your characterization of Rhaenys is spot on. Rhaenys is at her core a survivor. And her controlled obsession and cold calculation was the consequence of her background. That makes her dangerous, and not just for her enemies but herself. From all cruel villains, I always felt more compelled to Viserys because his madness made sense to me. Rhaenys needs a support group around her to keep her centered, something Viserys never had.

 **Dark Serpent Cat** : Thank you so much for your words. To clear your question: Jon is bi-sexual. It will be a Jon Snow/Arianne Martell/Daemon Sand. I picked those because I want to explore a trio. Oberyn, as much as a love him, would not work in this story, but he will help Jon (and so will Jon Con) come to terms with his sexuality. Daemon Sand fitted because of his love for Arianne but also age wise. I will try to make their relationship justice, as they will probably be the main established relationship for a while. No Kingslanding for now. But they will join Ned after Jon Arryn's death. While Joffrey having an obsession with Jon would be hilarious, plot-wise Rhaenys would make so much sense (Sansa's jealous, Catelyn and Cersei's fears). I might just do it. Personality wise, Rhaenys and Tyrion would be a match made in power heaven, and I have thought about them together. But he's still a Lannister. We'll see. But I will give him a happy ending because I am a sucker for Tyrion. Feel free to give me as many ideas and opinions and ramblings as you like, nothing in this story is definitive; expect Rhaenys ending up on the Throne _that_ will happen.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Rhaenys Targaryen would never admit out loud that she was nervous about meeting Maester Aemon. She wouldn't say it out loud because it was a weakness and only idiots broadcast those out loud. And even if she did feel the need to do speak with someone, it had to be someone whose trust could not be questioned.

She had no person like that around her at the moment.

Ser Rolly might have been the first knight who sworn to serve her, or at least the to work for Rhaenys, not the exiled princess, or the heir to a dynasty. Rolly would still serve Rhaenys if she decided to spend the rest of her life trading minerals and spices, never becoming anything more than a wealthy merchant. He lived for his vows, and she trusted him more than most. Rolly was part of her expedition North of the Wall. However, she didn't confide him with sensitive information.

Ser Simmon was firstly loyal to her uncles and House Martell, and while she knew they would never betray her, the woman he saw as a sister was Rhaenys closest friend, they had expectations for her path she choose to take. Simmon came to protect her but also to take an unbiased measured of Jon to report to her uncles.

Haldon had her respect as a fellow scholar, but she would never trust him with personal information. She would not forget his previous alliances. Gherio might own his freedom to her, and in the current group he is the one who knows the more about her plans, but he was almost as good at _feelings_ as she.

Benjen Stark and the Stark men were, for obvious reasons, not trustworthy. They had no degree of loyalty to her, and she had little leverage on them to use.

And Jon Snow. Well, she didn't come north on a _whim_ , or without guarantees that the trip would go on her favor, contrary to what most of her family and allies seem to think. The North might be difficult to set a spying network, but that didn't mean that Rhaenys didn't get information. She gained an ally by the name of Lady Barbrey Dustin, and Rhaenys enjoyed the week she spent in Barrowtown with the formidable lady, her daughters, and her nephew Domeric Bolton.

When she first met Jon Snow, Rhaenys already more information about her brother than most people she works with have of her. Much like she had about Lord Stark, his wife, and heir, and the political and economic situation in the North. _Knowledge was power_ and Rhaenys loved both.

Jon Snow would not betray her secret or Dany, or turn on her unless he had a very good reason to do so. He was truly Ned Stark son. Honorable. Dutiful. Kind. He had no deceiving bone in him and would always stand by his family. How Catelyn Stark didn't see it, was beyond her, but Rhaenys saw little of the woman that she liked or found useful. She is going to enjoy the day that fish finds out who boy she hated all her life actually is. She could see in the way Jon talked to her that he truly wished to know her. To have a sibling who understood him. He was a lonely child who never felt he truly belonged in Winterfell and craved a purpose in life, a path to follow.

 _Sounds familiar_. She pushed down the voice inside her that sounded very akin to a certain tree-hugging-bastard who seemed to take enjoyment in tormenting her dreams since her childhood.

Jon Snow, the boy, caused her little treat. Jon Snow, the symbol, was deadlier to her than most men alive. The Faith might not approve the marriage of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, no one wanted a repeat of the Faith Militant Uprising, playing the right cards, wait for the right time, and half of the kingdom would back her up. But as her allies placed a crown on her head, what is to stop the North Alliance to put on in Jon's.

Daemon Blackfyre was a legitimized bastard whose parents never came close to wed, with allies who feared the Dornish influence at court and having a King who was more scholar than a warrior. Those idiots fought three rebellions with The Blackfyre house as the figurehead. And no one alive knew the treat that the Blackfyre could possess more than Rhaenys.

 _Well. One does_. Her tree hugging uncle gave long and detailed lessons about it when they met. _And who better to educate you on the Red vs Black than Brynden "Bloodraven" Rivers_.

Jon, however, had a great advantage, one than Daemon didn't have, only one woman tried to sit on the Iron Throne, and it was well known what happened to Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Rhaenys had no plans to follow the half-year Queen footsteps nor did she wish to fight a bloody war when she could solve her problems with diplomacy and a few good moves.

 _Besides, I have my own advantages_. Rhaenys sharp grin could be considered menacing, if someone was in the chambers to see it.

* * *

Rhaenys watched as Benjen Stark guided Maester Aemon alive. And while blind, Aemon Targaryen long life didn't diminish his spirits. He lived almost 100 years but was lucid and of great healthy for someone his age. A little height left her chest.

"Maester Aemon, I would like to meet you my nephew Jon Snow," Benjen Stark spoke as the Maester sat in one of the four chairs at the table, at Jon's right.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Maester."

"You as well Jon Snow. But I don't understand the need to such secrecy."

Rhaenys watched as the two Starks looked between them, and Rhaenys made enough movement for the old man realized they weren't alone. As he turned to her, she spoke with a calm voice. "What they are trying to say but failing to say Maester is that Jon is not Benjen Stark's nephew as much people expect. Jon is not even the name his father gave him. I introduce you Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark." She spoke formally.

The maester turned sharply to where Jon was, and with trembling hands found his way to Jon's face. "Thank the gods. I thought I was alone."

Jon uncomfortable tried to console the man. Rhaenys did not interrupt this time. She would fail harder than him. _Maybe I should have brought Dany, she is so much better at making people feel better_.

"How long have you know?"

Jon looked at her, waiting for her directions. The meaning of his action was more powerful than he probably imagined. She nodded. "My sister told me."

"Sister?" The maester hopeful question was asked to her this time. "What is your name child?"

 _Child. I haven't been a child since I was four_. "My name is Rhaenys Targaryen."

"Rhaegar and Elia's daughter. But how? The tales."

She interrupted him before he could go forward with the terrible tale. She hated telling it, reliving it, but she at least was in control when she was the one retelling. "I was in my father's bedchambers because there was a secret passage underneath his bed." _And because I spent a year sleeping there, waiting for him to return and sing sad lullabies before bed, like he always did. And because Aegon and I slept on Mama's arms because she clearly feard the outcome of the war and was basically left alone and unprotected in the Red Kept._ "Before he left for the Trident, he told me my mother about the passage." _Actually, I found it because issued to hide with my cat underneath his bed when my grandfather, the King, said cruel words about the Dornish or was torturing people, leaving me scared. And I showed it to my mother._ "When the sack happened, she told me to hide there, and she went to pick up Aegon at the nursery." _Where Gregor Clegane murdered my infant brother, raped and then killed my mother._ "I hide there with a Dornish knight who was protecting me. The girl who died was Lady Myrianna's daughter." _Actually, I hid with two other children and childhood companions, Gerold Dayne, who was 10, and Mryia Jordayne, who was 3, as we heard the screams until Varys found us half-starved in the secret passages._ "He smuggle us out of the city while everything was still confused."

"I am terribly sorry." Maester Aemon spoke with a heavy tone. She wondered if he heard the lies in her voice. Benjen Stark had the same haunted expression that his brother did when she told the tale. Was it the cruelty of the situation or the detached tone of her voice that caused such reaction, she didn't know.

"I was young. I barely remember." _My dreams allow me to remember as if it was yesterday. I can even see my mother holding Aegon for the last time though Balerion's eyes_.

"Your father wrote to me about your birth. I dare to say it was the first time I truly found some happiness in his letters. He wrote that you were such a calm child and given to silence, much like him."

Rhaenys tighten her hand and put on a blank expression. She pushed back all the thoughts and emotions it was causing her to know that somehow her father was happy about her birth. She couldn't deal with her emotions about Rhaegar Targaryen in front of these men. Or anyone. She twirled the ruby ring on her finger. She had commissioned the piece in Myr. The band was made of red gold and engraved with Valyrian glyphs. The only stone was a red ruby that covered one-third of her finger. Her father rode to his death wearing a black breastplate where a three-headed dragon was wrought all in rubies. He had offered her one before he left, together with the last words he had uttered to her hearing.

"I studied our family tree and I knew there was still a Maester at the Wall who was a Targaryen. When I came to met Jon, I knew we had to see you as well."

"When news of Viserys death came to the Wall, I lost hope, believing it to be the end of our house." Rhaenys felt her bones harden and the pit on her belly as it always did when Viserys name was pronounced. _There is no man more cursed than a kinslayer._ "I couldn't help but think of his poor sister, all alone in Essos. But I was an old man vowed to the Wall, how could I help her."

"She is not alone," Rhaenys interrupt the man. He didn't need to suffer more. Aemon Targaryen deserved to have his last years without the constant worry about his family and legacy. He cared for three youths he never met before. Daenerys had the same compassion, she cared for Jon already. and she never met him. _She trusts and loves me unconditionally even knowing my crimes_. "I met her years ago. She is well protected and hidden. But it is true about Viserys. I saw his dead body myself. I could not have saved him." _Not when my own dagger did the deed_.

"You didn't tell me," Jon spoke, his voice still soft. She almost laughed at how tormented he looked on her behalf. _If he knew half of what I did in my life he wouldn't even stand being in the same room as me_.

"You will meet her in Pentos. Besides, you didn't ask." Guilt showed in his dark eyes. That such small thing proved to make him feel like that only showed his goodness- _kindness_. So much like Dany. So little like her.

 _A slip of coin_.

"How is she?"

"She looks like a Targaryen through and through. She is small, and I've been told she takes after Queen Rhaella in size and figure."

"My sister Daella was small as well, but my sister Rhae took after my father on size. And strength." The man reminisced.

"She is kind, protective. She likes to read beautiful tales and learn about our ancestors. She is terrible at sums, but can speak three languages and is learning the fourth. The dragonknight is her favorite Targaryen and Jaehaerys the First her most beloved king."

"What about you two?"

She looked at Jon to go first. One could say a lot about a person by their pick of childhood heroes. Arya's were Queen Visenya and Princess Nymeria. Most of their time together was talking about them. Bran's idols were all great knights and Kingsguard. It reflected in their dreams.

"As I child, I used to play that I was Aemon the Dragonknight."

 _Every boy does it would seem_. _Would Aegon favor the famed knight or Ryan Redwyne?_ She pushed that thought away. _He is dead, he favors nothing_.

"Rhaena Targaryen, Queen Alyssa, and Daeron the Second, and obliviously Corlys Velaryon."

"Rhaena?" Jon asked confused, but she could see in the old face of the maester that he understood her.

"King Aenys the First daughter."

"She was one of the Black Brides," Jon spoke with a tone of uncertainty. Clearly trying to remember her.

"Yes, together with Jeyne Westerling and Elinor Costayne. Alyssa was her mother." Rhaenys made sure to always call them by their full names and not by the same the maester and the commonfolk gave them. They should be remembered as more than simple Black Brides to a madman.

Jeyne Westerling died at nine-and-ten, after two days of suffering to birth a child that never lived, after years of grief and suffering, she never got a last moment of happiness. She had been an extraordinary painter. Elinor Costayne was a survivor and a hero who put her life on the line when helping Queen Rhaena out of Kings Landing with her daughter and then became the lady regent to one of her sons.

But no one speaks about it. No, they are known as the Black Brides.

"Great examples of valor." The maester spoke. _He understood_. Would you tell an old man about Daenerys Targaryen?"

"It would be my genuine pleasure." For the first time, Jon noticed his sister's eyes soften.

* * *

"I dreamt of you." The old man said as soon as they were alone. The maester had asked to speak along with Rhaenys and with Jon as well if he would allow it. Rhaenys appreciated the tactful way he had asked it. He might not live or serve at court anymore, but Maester Aemon still knew diplomacy.

"Of me, not about me?"

The man's smile was answer enough.

"Do you know why?" _Did he see Brynden in his dreams?_

"Dragon dreams. Powerful dragon dreams I would gather. I never had much of those before," He said simply. Rhaenys didn't stop the signed for leaving her body. "You were expecting I had those as well, that I could help you."

"One can hope." She tried to hide the disappointment from the man. Daenerys didn't have dreams like hers. She had dreamt of riding dragons, and Rhaenys knew why, but not more than that. Rhaenys gave thanks that Dany remained innocent to them.

The man's white eyes looked tired. His voice was dripped with sadness. "For me, these past years, only one question has remained. Why would the gods take my eyes and my strength, yet condemn me to linger on so long, frozen and forgotten? What use could they have for an old done man like me?" His hands were trembling and his eyes filled with tears. Rhaenys held her hands, linking their fingers. They were warm like hers. "Then, I dreamt of them." Rhaenys knew what he would say before he spoke. "Dragons," Aemon whispered. "The grief and glory of my House, they were. I see their shadows on the snow, hear the crack of leathery wings, feel their hot breath."

"I did too. So did Daenerys. I don't know if Jon dreamt of them as well." She took a deep breath. "There is a reason why those dreams intensified in the last years."

"I know," his hands gripped tightly on hers, his grip stronger than she would imagine possible for a man his age. "I _know_. Oh Rhaenys, we tremble on the cusp of half-remembered prophecies, of wonders and terrors that no one but a Targaryen could hope to comprehend."

"Look where it led us, uncle. Those dreams. Dragon dreams." Now it was her hands that were shaking with fear. "But my dreams… they –" Rhaenys felt so utterly _weak_. She came all the way here to speak with the man and now her throat tightened to the point she couldn't speak. _Weak. Weak. Weak_.

"My brothers had them as well." He spoke with a companionate tone, "and the dreams killed them, every one."

Aerion Brightflame drank wildfire in hopes of becoming a dragon.

Daeron Targaryen tried to drink his horrors away and caught the pox from a whore.

King Aegon … Summerhall.

"Madness and death. That what those dreams let to." Her voice sounded so heavy even to her own ears. She just wanted them _gone_. She wanted to go back to her ship and books and forgot all she saw and done.

"My brother Daeron, his dreams were like yours. Egg and Duncan came to visit me at Oldtown. They told me the tale on how they first meet, of what Daeron had said to Duncan. He was drunk in an inn, s recurrent for him, and told Ser Duncan that he had dreamt of him and to stay away from him."

"Did he say see?"

"To this day I still remember Ser Duncan's words, a reproduction of my brother's: I dreamt of you and a dead dragon. A great beast, huge, with wings so large they could cover this meadow. It had fallen onto of you, but you were alive and the dragon was dead."

She thought about those words for some time. "A metaphor?"

"Yes. You see my brother met Ser Duncan on their way to the Ashford Tourney."

"Baelor Breakspear. I know his story well. " She spoke, not even allowing the man to finish. Baelor Targaryen had been King Daeron, the Second, heir, and half Dornish like her. Of course, she knew all about him. He was well loved, Hand of the King for years, and would have been a great King.

 _Brynden didn't tell me this story. Did he not know or was he just being his normal manipulative self?_

"After his death, the throne passed to Aerys instead of him, and Maekar followed." _And Brynden ruled him their name_.

"My father never thought the throne would pass to him, and yet it did. He used to say that was his punishment for the blow that slew his brother."

 _If Aegon had lived, I would not be making plans to be Queen either. Or maybe father would have us wed._ Rhaenys didn't know what idea left the sourest taste in her mouth. _If Aegon had lived we would probably have retaken the Kingdom already. Maybe Viserys would not become mad. And I would have a night of normal sleep_.

 _There is no man more cursed than a kingslayer_.

She pushed all those thoughts away. "In the end, his dream was right." That scared her more than anything.

"What do you dream of?"

"When I was a girl, I dreamt that I could fly," Flashes of the last time she heard of those words made her shiver. Those were supposed to be the simpler dreams, the less painful to talk about, but even those left her filled with fear. Different from any other fear. A personal fear. "Then came the raven." Those did not fear her anymore. She knew who the raven was now. It annoyed most of anything. "Then came the dead and the cold. The fear and despair."

"Did you share your dreams with anyone?" He spoke with kindness and understanding.

 _So they could call me mad? Or fear me from childhood?_ Flashes of a girl trying to muffle her cries at night flashed to her mind. She shook her head, remembering the one person who had understood who she spoke about it. No. Don't think about _him_. "No."

"You are not alone in the world Rhaenys."

 _Oh, I know, but I know what happened to those who dreamt of ravens. I meet them._ "No one would understand."

"Your ten-and-seven, you should have to carry such weight by yourself."

"I am not alone." _They just don't know_. She told once, it was enough to learn the lesson.

"Do you want to hear about our family?" Rhaenys appreciated the change of subject.

"I'll call the others. We can share tales over supper."

* * *

Everyone was having a laugh as the childhood stories of Maester Aemon provide them. All but Rhaenys, she couldn't even force a smile on her face. She was too tired to even pretend. She touched Jon's shoulder, her brother seemed to notice the somber look on her face and nodded.

"I am going to rest." She said to Jon, feeling like she hadn't slept in weeks. Tired and broken and weak.

 _Some herbs and I'll sleep a dreamless night. I hope._

* * *

In her chambers, she walked over to her chest, opening it with her key. Then she moved the fake top as a combination lock appeared, with the correct four numbered code, the secret compartment opened to her. She held the sextant in her hand, the solid gold piece was worked in whirls and circled with tiny rubies incrusted. It was an expensive tool that she never used when sailing. Her fingers traced each ruby before putting back in place next to the heavy silver necklace with sapphires and emeralds she never wore. She closed the chest and its hidden secrets and got ready for bed. She brewed the sleeping tea automatically, and like always braided her hair before sipping the acrid and pungent beverage.

As she rested her head on the pillow, the herbs doing its work (no matter how much the detested the taste) as her eyes grew heavy, she wondered if she would ever stop being haunted by her dreams and her reality.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Another Rhaenys POV chapter. A heavy one that I hoped gave more insightful about her character. Next chapter will contain a time skip (and place) and will be mostly Jon's POV, and I don't think I will be writing another chapter from her POV for a while.

 **Guest (1)** : I'm saddened that this story is not for you, but I won't explain my view again.

 **Guest (2)** : I did not wish to disrespect anyone, and I apologize if you found it upsetting.

 **Guest (3):** Willas will appear, as the family trees I use are the ones from the books. Willas would be great pick, especially based in personalities and army sizes. But political speaking, I actually believe Garlan Tyrell, as a second son, would favored, because her children will have her last name. Robb Stark is actually a very good, if not the best, candidate, mainly because he's the head figure of the Northern block and like you said they complete each other. Rhaenys has a list of possible candidates that she has to pick from. Jon, in her mind, is a treat, if not him, his children, as they have a claim possible stronger than her and might not feel as loyal as Jon. That's why an Arianne/Jon marriage would be favored. Shireen will always be my heir to Storm's End, that cinnamon roll deserves it after all she had to put up with, but she does need a bit of kinder family members and girl friends.

 **Morgan** : I am glad you enjoy Rhaenys POV. Don't quote me later if it doesn't happen, but her chapters will probably always be very internalized and with a lot of secrecy. That who she is. She only speaks 1% of what she thinks. I love writing her because she is a traumatized woman, with disturbing secrets and a very flexible moral code.

 **Anime Princess** : I am honestly laughing as I picture the scenes in front of me. * Joffrey only likes Ghost because he doesn't make a sound and mostly just glares at him from far away, much like Jon. And Rhaenys has no problem with blood and can charm his sadistic tendencies.*

 **Bella-swan11** : Rhaegar left no will. First because he wasn't the King, his father was, and second, I always believe that he would win, be King, Aegon (who he believed was the prince that was promised not Jon) would follow and Elia would just accept everything because he was no understanding how things work in real life, and everyone would just accept his reasons because of prophesy. Rhaenys is not one to accept that nobles will only acknowledge a male heir, and is fighting for the crown not to be consort, especially because she knows she can win. She has allies, secrets weapons, and ruthless teachers.

 **Kinght8** : I have a love-hate relationship with Sansa. I love her arc in the books, but the show ruined her for me after season 5. Catelyn, I understand where she is coming from when it comes to Jon and her children, she is a product of her society and their views on bastard, but her political decisions make me mad, because she was raised for years as Hoster Tully's heir who is a ruthless pragmatic (she said so herself in the books), she should know better.

 **Orthankg1** : Thank you

 **Asta** : I hope this chapter shared some light for your comment. The thing is: Rhaenys doesn't know how to deal with Jon. Rationally she knows Jon is her biggest threat, but Jon is still the only brother she has left. With time you will realize Rhaenys puts people in categories: useless waist of space, expendable paws, paws she cares for but would sacrifice if needed be, and people she burns the world for. She is trying to figure out where Jon fits. Why she went to Jon? Because she _needs_ Jon (and it much better if she can have Jon as a brother who accepts her as Queen than to have to fight against him), and Daenerys wanted to meet him. Besides in Essos, Jon has no one to turn to but her and Dany. Why she doesn't kill Jon? Kinslaying is the worse crime in Westeros, and she is not completely without a conscience.

 **DreigonththeVampireGod** : It was a lot to do with how I imagine Rhaenys. In her mind is like: her father and grandfather were products of incest and look how it turned out, to her incent instead of political marriages ruined her family. Besides I want to write a brother and sister relationship that is complex (no shared childhood, different views on the world and desires, a relationship that both want to be peaceful and good but as everything to go wrong and it might not even be their fault).


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jon Snow looked at the people around him, eating, laughing, and making plans. Northerner, Southern, Dornish, and Essosi all speaking without any bloodshed. Rhaenys sat at the head of the table in a deep conversation with Vaenor Velaryon and Wendel Manderly, sipping on her tea while the silver-haired man explained something on the map they were looking over. They would depart from Braavos tomorrow morning, so the dinner was a simple affair, mostly to relax them before they went back to the sea.

Jon Snow enjoyed Braavos. A lot.

They had arrived at the Free City of Braavos five days ago. Jon was shocked to find out they would be staying the five days period in the Sealord Palace, where they had an entire wing for their leisure, courtesy of the leader of the city.

Seeing the luxury apartments, the rich foreign foods, the number of servants, the musicians playing at every moment, and the extraordinary palace that housed a zoo of beasts and birds from all over the known world, Jon believed he had woke up in another world. Neither of the northerners had seen such luxury before.

Jon started to wonder just how much wealthy Rhaenys, _Val, I must call her Val_ , really was to be allowed to stay in the best place in the city. The first day was spent refreshing, resting from the trip from White Harbor and exploring the small Island where the palace was located. Most of the Northerners that accompanied them were not used to travel by ship and missed the soil.

On the second day, Toria Fregar, the daughter of one of the lords of Braavos (not lords, magisters), and one of Val's associates that came to meet them at White Harbor introduced them to Toloro, her younger brother. The lanky man of seven-and-twenty, that lacked the boldness of his sister, but had all the courtesies expected of a high lord, introduced them to the city entertainments. It was during that morning meal that Jon learned that her sister had left in a ferry in the early hours of the morning to the Purple Harbor, where she had to attend some meetings and would spend the rest of her day at the to the headquarters of the Iron Bank. They were also informed of the Ball the Sealord would be hosting for them in the fourth night.

The third day started with a knock in Jon chambers, and a servant requesting that he attend his morning meal with his sister and some guests in her apartments. He had guessed that she wanted to introduce to him. At first, he thought it would be their aunt Daenerys, but then remembered that Rhaenys made it clear that they would only meet her in Pentos.

Ser Simmon was at the door and opened it with a morning courtesy.

As soon walked inside her apartments, he saw that his sister was not in the room. Her private solar was airy, due to the large double-doors made of glass, decorated in soft green silk curtains. The doors were open, allowing the sound of people speaking to be heard inside, and through the curtains, he could see some figures sitting in the balcony.

His sister was breaking her fast outside it would seem.

"You must be Jon." He turned around, startled as he watched a man with a hair mixed of silver and dark brown dressed clad white. The tall man, a warrior he had doubt, was probably a few years older than his father. The blue almost purple of his called to Jon's attention. That and the sword on his belt. "My name is Arthur Dayne."

"You're the sword of the morning. You. You're dead." Jon staggered.

The man just gave him a small smile. "I see that Lord Stark didn't tell you the full story." Some shade crossed through his eyes before he grew solemn. "When he came to find us, you were a newborn, and your mother was suffering from a fever. But when the confrontation between us began, Wylla and Ashara came to stop us on Lyanna's orders. Unfortunately, the Lord Commander and four of Lord Stark's men were already slain."

They stood in silence, heavy by the second. The knight's eyes were heavy by the time the story ended, and Jon was trying to process the information. _How could his parents allow so much death? What does it say about me?_

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"Lord Stark probably thinks Rhaenys isn't aware of our survival and fears what we would have happened if we knew of hers."

"You served Prin - my father." The words still state strange to him. "And Rhaenys would be the next in line." Jon couldn't help but stare at the whiteness of his clothes; suddenly they had an all new meaning to Jon. _Kingsguard wore white_. A fear grew inside him.

"Why don't we join our friends outside?" Ser Arthur offered.

Something inside Jon warned him that this was no ordinary meal, that the people eating with his sister were important and would shake his world even more. He took a deep breath and nodded.

As he walked to the large balcony he saw a full table, all members turned, and every doubt Jon had before was confirmed.

Rhaenys got up from her seat, contouring half of the table to approach him. The light-green silk robe she wore, was embroidered with sea motifs in silver thread. It was open, revealing the scarlet gown beneath. The colors crashed in a strange combination that made Jon wonder if his sister pulled the robes to keep her warm. As she walked Jon noticed the robes were slightly large in her frame and were _manlier_.

 _Is she wearing a man's robe?_ Jon had never seen his sister dressed inappropriately. Even when she was working on the ship, in trousers and tunics, his sister still looked like a lady. Jon was still shocked that his sister, not only could navigate and steer a ship, but also did ship work that most captains refuse to do, much less a woman. At one point, he had been shocked to find Lady Toria climbing the mast. _Arya would love her._

"Good morning Jon," she said, offering him a kiss on his cheek.

"Good morning," he offered his sister the same gesture. It was so strange compared to his and Arya's exchanges. But it was one of the few touches his sister offered freely.

"I see you meet Arthur already. I guess he told you how he's alive."

"Yes," Jon said trying to focus on his sister instead of the other people on the balcony. Maybe if he didn't stare he wouldn't be forced to confront them.

"Then I shall introduce the rest. This is Ser Oswell Whent." The other man in clad in white nodded by his sister left side. He too was armed with a sword.

"I was the first person to hold you." He said with a smile, and Jon could see Rhaenys roll her eyes when Jon looked down embarrassed.

"Please, let's make this more uncomfortable." The sardonic tone, Jon got used to after the days aboard a ship.

Rhaenys was very interesting on a ship. Her sarcastic replies became more pronounced, and she spoke more often with others, and after the second night of friendly gambling, was forbidden to play cards or any other game.

"It makes things much more interesting." A silver-haired man added with a smile that made Jon automatically think of his sister when she played cards. "Aurane Waters," the young man introduced himself with a handshake. Jon had to admit the man was handsome, in a sly way.

"Ignore everything he says." Her sister said with a cutting smile.

"Deep down, I know you love me."

A huff made Jon turn to the man clad in the same green hue, who was clearly related to Aurane Water. They shared the same silver hair, and the same facial features, except for his eyes, his were a pale lilac, while the bastard from the Crownlands had grey-green colored eyes.

"This is Vaenor Velaryon." _Of course,_ Jon thought, _who else would look this Valyrian, speak the Common Tongue, and not be a Targaryen._

"Next to Aurane are Nymeria Sand and her sister Tyene Sand who you already met." Both women were part of Rhaenys's companions in her trip North but separated as soon as they set foot on Northern soil.

The story had been very well known by now.

Both Dornishwomen had stayed behind in Barrowtown when Rhaenys travel to Winterfell. Ser Domeric Bolton was planning to visit his father at the Dreadfort and invited both women to travel with him and his two oldest cousins. According to the knight of House Bolton, they saved his life when his bastard brother tried to have him killed. It had been the gossip everyone talked about when they arrive at White Harbor after leaving the Wall. At the time only Jon had known their true identities. Ser Domeric had been the first highborn to join the voyage, and together with Lady Alysanne Dustin, the heir of Barrowtown, spread the world around while they were at the Wall. Soon they had a crew who wished to join them.

"Next is Ser Daemon Sand, the Bastard of Godsgrace" his sister pointed to a handsome knight with a strong jaw, sky blue eyes, and light sandy brown hair. Besides Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell, he was the only one wearing leather. He offered him an encouraging smile. _It's a nice smile._ "Sworn shield to Princess Arianne Nymeros Martell."A beautiful woman in orange and red offered Jon's her hand with a smile that made his cheeks burn. Trying, and failing, not to stare at her, he kissed her hand. The Princess seeing his uneasiness only smiled wider, this time more seductive. He blushed and looked down, and he could hear Theon and Robb laughing in his mind.

"And lastly, Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell." The man in question was still sitting, well lounging, on his chair.

"Pleasure," He said with an easy confidence that made Jon remember Theon, but the gleam in his dark eyes showed that his reputation as the Red Viper was well-worn. Even Jon, the bastard of Winterfell, had heard of the famous prince. His seat was on Rhaenys left.

"Seat with us Jon. Our unexpected guests were supposed to meet us in Pentos, but they enjoyed altering my plans too much it would seem." Vaenor moved a seat to his side, freeing the chair at Rhaenys' right, and his sister pointed to it.

"Dearest niece, we fear the cold winds would freeze you up North, and Pentos was starting to grow boring. You do have many unexpected guests it would seem." Between the insinuating words, the sharpness on Prince Oberyn's eyes and the glare his sister gave him, Jon knew he was missing something. Unexpected guest. The Northerners. Jon shallow, trying really hard not to stare at the men clad in white, the fact the heir of Dorne came all this way to see Rhaenys.

"I'm glad you came." She said diplomatically. "I did increase my crew which was unexpected." There was nothing in Rhaenys's voice that told him what she really thought of the crew. He's been trying to figure out her thoughts on it since they left White Harbor.

"You came back with half of the North." Ser Arthur spoke.

"Yes, my dear niece, an explanation would be most gracious."

A look was shared between Rhaenys and her uncle before she spoke. "Lady Alysanne Dustin asked me to come before I even left Barrowtown. She dreamt of traveling and her mother allowed her to come as long she took ten guardsmen with her. Where she goes Lady Dacey Mormont follows. I like their company. They proved not to be afraid of hard work or following my command when needed." She took a break to look around the room. "Lady Alysanne knows."

"Knows what?" Ser Arthur asked.

"About Jon, me as well, I gather. It is an unspoken truth. Lady Barbrey Dustin was married to Lord Willem Dustin. I believe you and Oswell are familiar with him. It was quite a memorable meeting you had after all" She spoke with a cutting tone that stopped either man from speaking, and made Prince Oberyn's face turn wickedly sharp, a look mirrored in Aurane Water's face. Princess Arianne had the grace to hide her smile in her cup of tea.

Lord Willem had been one of the three Stark men to survive the confrontation at the Tower of Joy. He died fighting in the Greyjoy Rebellion. Even Jon could see the two famous knights trying to hide their discomfort.

"Lord Willem told his wife some of what happened in the Tower but not about Jon. Lady Barbrey, however, is no fool. A like a quite deal actually." That raised a few eyebrows, Jon included. The formidable Lady of the Barrowlands as a stern and cold woman, and her oldest daughter, and heir, was a skilled archer and famously in the North for her lack of finery tastes, and wearing boy's clothes. She still recalled the look on Lady Catelyn's face when they came to two years ago to Winterfell when Bran had innocently asked if Lady Alysanne would be Robb's wife.

"What is the danger of exposure?" Vaenor Velaryon asked more calmly than the knights and the Prince.

"None. Lady Barbrey kept that secret for years, and will not speak unless under treat. Her heir is coming with us, if that is not a show of goodwill, I don't know what it is."

"Domeric Bolton probably knows or suspects something." Tyene Sand spoke in a gentle tone. The blonde woman was like a sweet flower, delicate and lady-like. She spent most of the time mending clothes and working on embroidering. "He is clever and sees more than he leads on. But he owes me a life debt. When he arrived in Braavos he said and I quote: _I would be dead if not for you, and I own you and those of your blood a debt. I won't betray your secrets_."

"I approve."

"It is not like that," Tyene told her father with a demure smile. "You know I have my eyes on Ser Rolly." Jon had become close with Ser Rolly who training with Jon every morrow. Never once he spoke about having a lover.

"Ser Rolly made vows." Ser Arthur warned the sand snake.

"Yes, because I am sure you all kept those celibate vows." Nymeria Sand spoke with a roll of her eyes.

"Uncle Lewin had a paramour and he was the best of his brothers." Princess Arianne offered with a sweet smile and mirthful eyes. Prince Oberyn laughed and agreed with his niece. Ser Arthur did not rise to the provocation, but Ser Oswell grin at the Dornish princess.

"Moving on to more important things." Rhaenys interrupt. "Those three we can trust not to babble to everyone once they go back home. The rest is a problem."

Jon did not like the conversation, even if he was expecting his sister to want to talk to him about it at some point. He also didn't like the flat tone she used when she said 'problem'.

"How many are they?" Ser Oswell asked Rhaenys.

"Smalljon Umber, the heir to Last Heart, his brother Allard, and five Umber men. They are northern to the bone."

"What does suppose to mean?" Princess Arianne asked.

"They won't betray my father," Jon spoke without realizing, and all eyes turned to him. "I mean Lord Stark." He turned to his sister, realizing why she called this meeting. "They won't tell about you. Not when it means my father will die as well."

"What about Ser Wendel Manderly and Daryn Hornwood." Ser Arthur spoke, and Jon shouldn't be surprised he already knew the names of the other men. _He was the deadliest of Aerys' Kinsguard._

"We speak with all of them. They came because they wanted to travel and visit new lands, tell them the dangers of staying with us, and not just because of the voyage itself. Give them a choice. Come with us and have to confront that possibility or return north" Jon approved of Rhaenys idea.

"If they chose to stay?" Vaenor Velaryon asked.

"We tell them who we truly are." The hardness in Rhaenys and Prince Oberyn' eyes made Jon pray that those men accept the truth and kept the secret because he was sure the two of them would kill them if prove to be dangerous.

* * *

Jon Snow watched Rhaenys dance with the Sealord of Braavos son, a complex dance with fast moves, combining with the fast beat of the band. The dark-haired boy was tired of watching the way the man looked at his sister. He could at least pretend that he wasn't dancing with her in hopes of something more.

The black gown she wore was fashioned in the Braavosi style. Made of fine silk, the low-cut bodice was adorned with dark beads, and the skirts had a short train down the back. The only colorful peace was the impressive amethyst comb holding her curls, but the showstopper was the heavy necklace that Rhaenys told her was made of black amethyst.

 _She looks like a Queen_.

Jon recalled the tailor saying that in Braavos the wealthy and powerful dress in dark colors. _It said a lot that Rhaenys, even not using her birth name, was powerful enough to be clad in black._ It was the only time Jon actually saw her in black.

Princess Arianne who was sharing a dance with the other son of the Sealord was wearing black and dark red embellishments, a net of spun gold held her hair up, and a chain of gold and ruby adorned her naked back. The Martell Princess bodice was even more low-cut that Rhaenys. Jon was red of face after the dance the princess forced him to share with her.

Prince Oberyn had not spoken to him once since the morning meal they share yesterday, and he could not see him tonight. He had seen the man trained with Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell, something that gathered a crowd of young men from the North, and to say they all got one hell of a lesson was an understatement. Jon had never seen anyone fight like that.

Ser Oswell Whent had offered to give them lessons during their journey when he caught the group spying on their training. But he didn't see much of the Dornish Prince. Ser Arthur spent most of the time accompanying (and guarding) Rhaenys. Jon understood why the Prince kept his distance; he could occasionally catch his calculating black eyes on him. _He fears that I will betray Rhaenys._

Princess Arianne had appeared next to Jon as he was seeing the exotic animals, hours after their first meet, and spent the entire afternoon with him. Ser Daemon, her sworn-shield, always a step behind her, but he took participated in the conversations. Princess Arianne was willing to share a lot more about Princess Daenerys, her tastes, her likes, her traits. Daenerys had spent years with the Princess of Dorne, as a lady companion, and they were closed it seemed. She also told him that she would be accompanying them across Essos, something it took her father, Prince Doran, a lot of convincing.

"But Rhaenys is good at convincing people." The heiress of Dorne had said.

Jon could see it, the small assemble she had called for after the infamous morning meal had turned very positive. They had all agreed to stay and hear them, and Rhaenys had taken reigns of the conversation and explained her and Jon story, much like she had done to Lord Stark and Maester Aemon. They all understood that Rhaenys, Jon, Lord Stark, and the Martell family would all die if the secret came out, but in the end, the northerners were in agreement that it was an injustice for innocents to be killed for no reason other than their parentage.

It had been Ser Wendel Manderly the first to support her, and it was all it took. The oldest of the Northerner present had been the only one to fight in Robert's Rebellion. He confessed behind present in the throne room after the Sack and that he would not betray Rhaenys secret as long she didn't cause any war for the Throne.

She had agreed right away.

"You're brooding," Ser Daemon spoke as he approached. "Not much of a dancer?"

"Not much of a partier either." He commented, watching as Vaenor Velaryon stole her sister away for another dance. The Sealord and his wife had opened the dancefloor with a traditional dance, but his sister and the fair-haired men were the soon sharing a couple of dances. Toloro, being the first to break the attractive couple and asking for a dance himself. Afterward, his sister had not left the dancefloor. She danced with all the northern present and some Braavosi that found the courage to ask her. She also dragged Jon for a couple of dances.

"I feel in my conscious that I should warn you that there is at least another ball waiting for you in Pentos."

"Really?" _Are they going to have parties in every city?_

"The Prince of Pentos is a close friend of your sister"

Jon is starting to think everyone in the Free Cities is a 'close friend' of his sister. Which is ironic since Rhaenys didn't seem the type to have many friends. Except for Vaenor Velaryon. Jon wondered if Rhaenys realized how comfortable she seemed around the brother of the Lord of Driftmark. Allarc Umber had at one point tonight asked Jon if his sister was betrothed to the man. Jon said that she was not, but part of him wondered what the story there was.

"He became the Prince of Pentos recently. He's a decade older than Val, but when she wasn't traveling, she spent most of her time in his father's mansion."

Another thing he realized, when his sister said she traveled all Essos, she _meant_ it. Most traders stop at Qarth, the gates of the Jade Sea, but his sister went as far as Yi-Ti and Leng, and Domeric had caught some people talking in Braavosi Valyrian that it was rumored she been as far as to Asshai.

What his sister would want in Asshai, Jon feared to ask.

"You know a lot about Rh- Val." Jon tried not to sound jealous but grew bit angry when Ser Daemon laughed at him.

"Forgive me Jon for laughing. I don't know a lot about Val. All I know is common knowledge and a few bits that Princess Arianne might have told me."

"You and the Princess are very close."

"I am her sworn shield." That was a half-truth.

"Yes, and you do your duty so dutifully." The voice of the Princess spoke behind them. Jon was still a lot tongue-tied around her. She was beautiful, older, and a Princess, and for someone reason, she seemed to be constantly trying to talk to him. It confused him. "Jon, dance with me."

Really, _really_ , confusing.

* * *

"You seem to be correct in your assessment."

"I usually am. I would appreciate if you stop staring at him as if he was Daemon Blackfyre reborn, uncle. That time is over, or don't you recall?"

Prince Oberyn Martell tried to pretend not knowing what she meant, but Rhaenys was more like Doran than any of her parents.

"I just wanted to get my own measure of the boy." He commented as his niece placed her feet on boiling water with peppermint and salt without flinching, while Oberyn occupied himself with pouring a wine.

"The boy already had a cold fish treating him like he was unworthy of even a bed in his father's Hall. " Oberyn was not that shocked with it. He remembered meeting Hoster Tully, and even without meeting the lord, he knew enough of him to know his children would be raised to distrust anyone born on the other side of the sheets. "Are you going to suddenly go against everything you believe in?" She might sound composed, but the dangerous treat as still there. _A viper in the grass, and a dragon amidst flames_ , he mused. One who knew exactly what to say to get to Oberyn. _All that time with Doran paid off_.

"You know this has nothing to do with the nature of bastard. It has to do with what everyone else north of the Red Mountains thinks of women ruling." He spoke offering a glass to his niece and another to Vaenor who was occupied with massaging the calp of his - friend? lover? - whatever they call themselves.

"We are not having this argument again." Oberyn had recalled the conversation the two of them had when he arrived in Braavos. The long talk had gone nowhere. _Maybe Vaenor can knock some sense into her._ He looked at his niece sitting between the pretty boy's legs, clad only in a silk - _male-_ tunic, and tried to hold his tongue.

"We need the North on our side." The barechested man spoke, stopping his work to task the fine dornish red.

They stood in silence for some time, the glasses full of Dornish Red emptying and refueled.

"I wish I could go with you."

"You have a baby and little snakes to look after. I'll have Arianne and your oldest Snakes by my side. Between the four of them and the Vaenor and Aurane. I have someone to watch my back."

"What about your loyal knights?" Oberyn couldn't keep the judgment out of his tone. Even after all these years he still could not forgive those two. Especially Arthur, and didn't his oldest friend knew it.

"They stood behind and supported my father's stupidity."

"They would still die for you." _So would you. And I._ Oberyn stopped himself from saying.

"So would Connington and Rolly." She replied to Vaenor. "Doesn't mean I trust them to water my plants. Or follow me against a son of my dear, foolish, dead father,"

Oberyn let of a dark chuckle, "So you do think Jon would fight against you."

Rhaenys' eyes traveled to the glass windows, with a view to the gardens, where not long ago they spied Jon Snow and Arianne Martell sharing a nightly walk in the company of Ser Daemon. Jon Snow might be a shy green boy, but the attraction was obvious. Oberyn offered his, so, _so_ , clever niece a knowing grin as they glasses touched. Even Vaenor, normal urbane expression turned a shade of sly that would make his half-brother proud.

"You scare me something, my dear niece."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I apologize for my lack of update, unfortunately, my family has been going a hard time. My sister's boyfriend suddenly passed away and she moved in to live with me, and we have been adapting. I had some stories I plan to write but most didn't move from the first chapters. I might still publish my Dance of the Dragon story, we'll see.

 **Morgan** : Maester Aemon is an extraordinary character. He's up next to Qhorin Halfhand, and of course Sam, in my list of side-character in Jon's POV. I cannot help but wonder what would happen if he had been King. I too like to imagine that he knew about Jon and was guiding his last known descendant.

Oh, trust me, Rhaenys has a lot of Rhaegar in her, and it does anger her when people bring that up (Arthur has learned it the hard way), and Oberyn preferences to compare her to of Doran. In my experience, it is the parent we are the less close to that we are the more like.

 **orthankg1** : thank you.

 **Shadow Tricked** : I'm saddened that you won't read it because of it, but Jon won't be king.

 **Zukafew119** : Thank you so much for your review. I find myself seeking stories of Rhaenys and Jon, mostly because it can be written in such different ways but still relatable.

Rhaenys does need a LOT of therapy; unfortunately, there are no mental health clinics in Westeros. The doctors would have a field day with her. But she will be the first to admit she is a real basket case. The madness that runs in the family scares the shit of out her. Rhaenys has plans to deal with ANYONE just in case they pose a threat to her and Dany, even her family. She is a control freak of the highest form.

Shireen is my cinnamon roll and I just want her to be happy, warm, and loved. Rhaenys and Joffrey would be … exactly like that.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Daenerys Targaryen stood outside the gates of Illyrio's manse in a plump colored flowing silk gown that bared her arms and her back, as it was the fashion of Pentos, waiting patiently for the party to arrive. She tried to keep herself composed and hide the excitement inside her. It was not easy since she wanted was to move her feet and legs. She had been outside for what it felt like hours when it was probably only a few minutes.

She looked to the Lady Ellaria Sand, who stood in the line, looking perfectly lady-like, as if she was a true princess. She was not, Daenerys knew, she was the only living child of Lord Uller and a spice trader (who currently worked for Rhaenys). When her father lost his sons in battle, he reconnected with his daughter who became his joy.

She was not the only lady awaiting the party. Lady Myria Jordayne, with her blank expression, black and dark green sandsilk cloth draped around her slim body in the classic Rhoynar fashion, a heavy gold bracelet crusted with emeralds decorated her tiny wrist, a gift from Rhaenys. Her brother, Ser Gerold Dayne, always her shadow, stood by her side, clad in dark leather and purple silk.

Lady Ashara stood next to her Dayne relative, clad in flowing lilac robes with white accents. She gave Daenerys an encouraging smile. Dany knew that Ashara too was anxious, even if she hid it better than most. The mask of serenity on her face made Daenerys remember that for all the men that accompany and raised Rhaenys, Lady Ashara Dayne stood by her side from the moment she first came into the world.

"What is taking them so long?" Elia voiced what Daenerys was thinking. "I am tired of standing here, waiting."

Ellaria gave her daughter a disapproving look. "What did I tell you, you will behave like a lady, or I will send you back inside to wait with your sisters." Even at nine, Elia was every bit of father's daughter. She along with her sister Obella were little terrors and Dorea and Loreza (who was to not yet two namesday old) seemed to be taking after the Red Viper as well.

"Poor Ellaria, four daughters and every one her father's daughter." Arianne usually said when some gossip or report of the youngest Sand Snakes reached them.

"They shall be here soon." Daenerys offered in a hopeful tone.

Thankfully, it didn't take much longer for the group of people atop various types of horses to come to view. _Too many_ , Daenerys thought, expecting only Rhaenys, Jon, her companions on the trip. and the small group that had departed from Pentos a week ago, to meet Rhaenys in Braavos.

The leader of the part, clad in light green riding dress and tan sandsilk pants, her hair in a long braid, rode next to her uncle, Prince Oberyn in his black sandsteed, and an unfamiliar face on the other side. She ignored the rest in favored of studying her nephew.

Jon Snow was dress in heavy black leather that must be boiling him from the inside, in the warm weather of Pentos. He stood astride in his horse with an easy that many did not have. His hair was as dark as Rhaenys, who seemed to have washed away the honey-colored dye and now presented her natural locks, and as thickly curly. All three of them seemed to have inherited Queen Rhaella's curls, although Daenerys' hair was less curly and not as thick. It was a trait introduced by the Dornish marriages, both Dayne and Martell, in the family.

Daenerys had a large portrait of her mother in her room that had been painted by Princess Elia herself in her first year at court. Daenerys looked a great deal like her mother, and that made her happy. The queen in the painting, however, was so delicate and such sad eyes, so haunted, that it made Daenerys wish to be able to hug her mother every time she looked at it.

The locket in her necklace, a beautiful gold piece with tiny amethysts that Rhaenys had gifted her, opened to reveal a portrait of a younger Rhaella. Her face free of the burden and the heartbreaking life she led. She was still a maiden, with bright eyes and a sweet smile. The likeness between the mother and daughter made them almost look like twins.

Rhaenys climbed off her horse, at the same time her uncle. She went to meet Jon, offering him some words that no one else could hear, Prince Oberyn fast pace to them, pulling Ellaria into a heated kiss that really should not be shown in such a public setting and pulling a protesting Elia into his arms.

"I miss you, my love."

"You've been gone for a week," Ellaria said in an exasperating tone, but with a smile on her lips.

Daenerys watched the Martell family welcome one another as Daenerys turned to Rhaenys who was walking side by side with Jon who was firmly looking at his boots.

"Rhaenys." Daenerys hugged her niece as soon as they were close. "I hope you had a nice trip."

"It is good seeing you Dany. I found the trip most fortunate," Rhaenys spoke in a courtly tone. Daenerys, used to Rhaenys, didn't comment. She looked at the dark-haired boy that was trying really hard not to look at them. Dany bit her lips to stop herself from smiling.

"Jon." His head raised, and Daenerys saw his dark grey eyes. Not violet like Daenerys's, nor deep lavender of Rhaenys, not even the lilac of Viserys. Jon had the Stark coloring, but there was something in him, as he stood next to his half-sister, that made them similar despite their differences. "This is our aunt Daenerys."

"Please call me Dany." She said offering the shy boy her hand to kiss while fighting the urge to hug him.

"If you call me Jon." Daenerys offered him a big smile that seemed to calm some of his tension.

* * *

Daenerys met everyone else, one by one, the men of the north that would come with them east. She had been shocked when they kissed her hand and called her by her true name until Rhaenys explained the situation.

 _That explains why Jon Connington was not with them at the time_.

Rhaenys had excuse herself to refresh, while Illyrio and Daenerys took upon themselves to guide their guest to their rooms. By the end, she had asked if her niece wanted to eat, but Vaenor informed her that Rhaenys was actually in a meeting with the griffin lord, her uncle, the Lady Ashara, Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold, and Ser Oswell, since she arrived. It really should not come to as a surprise.

Since Rhaenys would probably be in the room with them for hours, she had told Vaenor to remind his niece of the meal they were hosting when he returned to the meeting. She knew if Gerold was there so would Vaenor. She almost sent word to Ellaria, in the hope she would try to stop them from killing each other, but then remembered Ashara was there as well. The Dayne woman was good at keeping the peace between them or at least stop Rhaenys' acid tongue from destroying someone.

She passed by the kitchen to ask the cookers about evening meal, directing the servants not to forget to inform and guide their guest unto the garden where the meal would be served. Illyrio's manse might not be the largest in the world, but it was one of the biggest in Pentos, and easy to get lost.

After all her duties were complete, Daenerys walked into the east wing of the manse, climbed the staircase, until she found the room she was looking for, and knocked on its door.

Jon Snow had opened it with a shocked look, wearing breeches and a linen shirt, his hair still wet from his bath. _At least his is not wearing many layers as before. I hope he and his companions brought lighter clothing, or they will boil in the western weather_.

"Can I come in? I thought we could talk, get to know each other."

He seemed to be lost for words, but nodded, opening the door wider, allowing her entrance.

Jon's rooms were in the family wing, and she had prepared them beforehand. They were comfortable and airy, as most of the bedchambers in the manse were. A large featherbed stood in the middle, with a blue comforter covering it, embroidered with silver thread by Daenerys own hand, and silver blue pillows atop. There was armoire of the same white wood that was used in most of the furniture, a writing desk with a padded chair, and large pillows spread by the three windows that covered one wall covered partially by blue silk curtains.

 _Maybe I went to heavy on the blue, but Ser Arthur said Lady Lyanna liked blue._

"Please have a sit." Jon said, guiding him to her table.

"I hope you like your chambers."

"They are very … large." He spoke almost in confusion. "I expected to be sharing with someone." He added, and by his face, he was shocked to have done so.

"The family wing is vast enough to house us all you don't need to worry about it."

"This is the family wing?" He seemed even more perplexed. Where else would he be?

"There are five rooms in this floor. Mines are on your left and Arianna's are on the other side. She actually shares her chambers with Tyene and Nym, but they have done it since they were young. On the end of the hall, you have Ellaria's and Oberyn's chambers, adjusted to their daughters. Rhaenys's chambers are on the floor above us, as well Ser Gerold, Lady Myria, and Vaenor. If you need guidance you can ask the servants and they'll point you to the right door. I got lost here in my first weeks."

His brows frown. "I thought you lived in Dorne."

"I did, but only for the last three years. Before, I lived here for about two. This is where I met Rhaenys."

"She told me you used to live with your brother."

"Viserys, yes." Daenerys tried to smile at it.

"I am sorry, Rhaenys told me he died a couple of years ago."

 _And I doubt she told you how_. "Yes. His cruelty finally caught up to him."

"He was – cruel?"

Daenerys was surprised Jon didn't knew that about Viserys. "What did Rhaenys told you about Viserys?"

"That you three lived together for a time, but he was killed. She didn't look like she wanted to speak about it a lot, so I didn't ask."

She leaned a bit back in her chair, in hopes of finding some comfort and the right words. "Viserys and I lived with Ser Willem Darry after we fled from Dragonstone, but he died when I was five. Afterwards, the servants had stolen what little money we had left, and soon after they had been put out of the house. We lived from city to city afterwards, until Rhaenys found us in the streets of Pentos and took us in."

"How did she come to live in here?"

Daenerys was starting to realize Jon Snow despite the almost two moons he spent with his sister had learned little about her. It didn't come to as a surprise, but Daenerys could see he was curious. The princess also knew what she was allowed to say, and offered Jon some information.

"Lady Ashara found refugee with the Sealord of Braavos. She sent word to Prince Oberyn and her brother about their faith after everyone calmed down. They lived with the Sealord for some years, and then they found a home with the Archon of Tyrosh. Rhaenys was his cupbearer and worked as scribe. She came to meet Illyrio on a trip here. He had a young son about her age, and they wed when she was four-and-ten."

"Rhaenys has a husband?" He blurted.

"Not anymore." Daenerys spoke, remembering the sickroom and the complications that came after. "He died a year after they were wed. He caught the grey plague when he was a child and never regain his health completely. She was already working in trading as a scribe but had never actually ventured very far because of it. But afterwards, she took over a large part of Illyrio's business, and started to travel more and more. Each time father than the last."

Jon's face long face was full of melancholic at the story. "It explains why she is so," he bit his lip to stop his words.

"Stern." Daenerys offered and Jon nodded. Daenerys took a deep breath. All she said until now was well known even outside their group. But Jon deserved a bit more to understand. She had remembered her time with Rhaenys, her intelligent, well-travelled niece who seemed so cool and unreachable. It had taken a long time for Daenerys to understand Rhaenys. Lady Ashara had helped a lot with it, and now she would help Jon, because Rhaenys needed family who understood her. The Martell's loved her with all their fierceness but they were not the blood of the dragon. They didn't understand.

"Rhaenys is a hard woman, but not cruel. But most of what life thrown at her was sacrifice and death. It is not an easy way to live. She lost her parents and her brother at a very young age and knew violence too soon. It took away much her innocent. She had to fight for everything good she has had. She had to fight to meet me. She had to fight to keep the family she had together, and lost a husband and an uncle. She had to fight to be allowed to work, and do something with her life, to do what she wanted. She lived a life of fight and grief, and it made her hard, and cold and distant. And I know it is not easy to connect with her, and that sometimes it feels like she keeps one thousand secrets from you, but Jon" She held his hand with hers, she could see in his eyes that he was trying not to let a word out of her little speech go unnoticed. "When Rhaenys loves, she will go to the seven hells with open arms for you. She might not say it with pretty words, but she'll say with her actions. She will protect you and take care of you."

"Is what she did for you? You said Viserys was cruel."

"He was. Very cruel. He used to hit me when I made him unhappy." Something hardened in Jon's eyes. _How like Rhaenys_ , she thought. "Rhaenys sent me to Dorne to protect me from him. I was about to become a maid and he wanted to sell me off to some warlord. So Rhaenys made sure he didn't. And it was Rhaenys who told me about his death. It was her who organized his funeral, despite the fact we had nobody." Daenerys knew from Jon's face, that he knew the Usurper's men had taken his body to King's Landing. Maybe he even believed it was the drunken king who ordered the deed done. He probably would take the credit, but he did not do it. "When he died I had not seen him for many moons. Rhaenys doesn't talk about those months, but I heard enough for the servants. I think in the end, he went mad like my father. And however kill him, had a good reason to do so."

"He hurt you." Jon seemed still shocked at the notion, it made Daenerys want to hug him. "Did you think he hurt Rhaenys too?"

"Yes." Daenerys said with certainty. _In more ways you cannot imagine, and probably not in ways you imagine._

"I am sorry, that your brother was like that. Brothers are supposed to protect their sisters."

He was so earnest and truthful with his soft but sure voice that a tear fell down her eye. It had been a long time since she though so much about Viserys. About what he did. About what he forced Rhaenys to do.

"I supposed so. You have two other sisters' right?" It was the wrong thing to say, because he turned even sadder. "Jon," she said softly, "they are your sisters as well. They might not be on blood but they are in your heart, and that is what matters."

"You're very wise." He said with a smile, and Daenerys found herself blushing at it.

"Well I am your aunt. It is my duty to offer you wise council."

They both smiled. "You're my age."

"I am actually younger by half a year."

Jon crinkled his nose. "So strange. " Then something changed in his expression, something softer but serious at the same time. "I gained an older sister, maybe you can be my sister too."

Daenerys got up from her seat and hugged him tightly. Because she read between the lines. He was offering to be her older brother. He was offering to be all that Viserys was not.

* * *

Daenerys and Jon spend much longer talking about everything and nothing. From castles build in the snow, to games played in the Water Gardens. When the servant girl came knocking it was already time to eat.

She had taken Jon's arm and guided him to the terrace, where two large round tables were set next to each other, for every guess, and some were already in place, enjoying the first course. The terrace was lightened by the sunset and the candles and oil lanterns. The terrace overlooked the extensive gardens and the stunning marble pool. The ambient allowed for comfort and some peaceful time. Daenerys inquire her guests if their chambers lacked anything, but between short replies and more flourishing words, everyone seemed comfortable.

She blushed when Ser Domeric kissed her hand as a gesture of gratitude. The dark-haired, pale-eyed knight had already made her blush when he introduced himself. _Who knew the north had such a handsome man?_ Domeric Bolton wasn't as beautiful as Vaenor or Aurane, or had the dangerous aura of Oberyn or Gerold, but there was something in his cool beauty that drew her.

As they parted Jon raised an eyebrow, probably noticing the pink in her cheeks, but did not comment, even if she could see him trying to hide a smile. Dany and Jon found sits in front of Nym, and next to Arianne who was entraining the guests, not far away Sarella and Lady Alysanne Dustin seemed to be talking about archery with Ser Wendel Manderly. Ellaria was calming her daughters into sits not soon after. She took noticed that most of the northerners were already here, if not all, by the time the servants came to ask Dany if they should serve the meal.

"Arianne, do you know how long they will take?" She asked the Princess of Dorne, interrupting her conversation with the handsome dark-haired man.

"Ashara was already in her chambers when I came."

"You can serve the meal, our final hosts are a bit delay." The Prince Obeyrn voice carried through the terrace as he entered, arm in arm, with Lady Ashara, followed by Myria and Gerold. He guided Ashara to the sit next to Dany and took one by Ellaria's side.

"Are we waiting for many others?" A brown haired lady in her twenties asked. She had been introduced by Lady Alysanne, but the tall girl was easiest to remember and she could not recall the name of this one.

"Arra Stout," Jon whispered to her, and she gave him a smile and squeezes his arm in thanks.

Daenerys looked at both tables and turned to the brown-eyed woman. "We are missing five." But knowing who those were, she turned to the servants and spoke in Pentoshi. "Please, you can bring the food."

They were comfortable eating, most in conversation in their own table (Daenerys was naming it the South and the North table), only interfering when the guests were surprised by the foods. It must have been half an hour when the last group arrived. Vaenor came first, in conversation with Ser Oswell, who sat between to his fellow brothers, Ser Rolly and Ser Simmon, and Vaenor sat next to his brother Aurane. She raised an eyebrow at the fair lord who rolled his eyes in response.

 _Great, they were fighting._

"Magister Illyrio offers his apologies but some magisters are being hosted by the Prince and he could not deny the invitation." Vaenor offered to everyone.

Daenerys knew that was a lie. The dinner he was speaking off had been speaking off was last week. He likely was sending a little bird to Varys. Or this outcome perhaps dignifies a trip to King's Landing? Rhaenys would tell her.

Speaking of her niece, she arrived arm in arm with Jon Connington, Ser Arthur following them. The red-haired lord's face was cold, and Rhaenys had her mask of coolness as well. Daenerys wondered if Rhaenys's fingernails were leaving marks in Connington's arm. It was likely.

Rhaenys's sat Jon next to Simmon, and as far from the Northern table as possible, as she herself sat next to Dany and Ashara. Introductions were made, and gladly no one made mention of Jon Connington's previous alliances, even if both Ser Wendel and Ser Mark Ryswell knew of him.

With the food and drinks flowing the conversation became livelier, and between the two tables, they entertain themselves for some time. Plans were made for the four days they would spend in Pentos, and Rhaenys and Connington kept from speaking to each other.

* * *

Jon found Daenerys and Rhaenys on the pillared gallery they had agreed to meet. Daenerys seemed to be slightly put out of having to get up so early in the morning when they retired late in the evening. Jon, himself, wouldn't mind more than five hours of sleep. But his dreams have been very strange lately, so he didn't know what he preferred. Rhaenys, however, looked well put together. Her braided hair contrasting against the loose waves of Daenerys, both clad in the silky dresses that made Jon blush, and remember the boys' conversations about how they were enjoying Essosi fashion. He raised an eyebrow at the box in Dany's hands.

"Follow me," Rhaenys spoke softly and they did.

Daenerys took his arm as they followed the tall woman. They descended staircase by staircase until they found themselves in a cellar that confuse Jon more and more. Soon they found themselves in front of a door.

"Should we explain?" Daenerys asked.

"It's better seeing it," Rhaenys spoke, getting an iron key from Dany and opening the heavy door.

They walked inside and Jon could see the large hearth warming the place. But then a familiar sound of leathering wings made him turn and suddenly he was a freeze in place. Around Daenerys neck was a black winged… _dragon._ Jon swallowed. That is a dragon around small Daenerys. Suddenly flames call to his attention, and Jon saw a red … _dragon…_ another dragon roasted some piece of meat before he swallowed it. Rhaenys then patted him as if he was a pet who had done a good job.

"Those are dragons." Jon slurred and then felt something touch his leg. He looked down and saw cream colored hatching purring against this leg like a cat.

"I told you Rhaegal would like Jon," Daenerys said with a smile.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I** t has been a long time, but how many of you were expecting Dragons so soon? This chapter has been in the making for some time, but I was never pleased with it. Still aren't, but I was unable to work it better. If everything goes according to my plans I might be able to update this story more regularly now.

 **ElyzabetShardlake** : I agree there should be more Rhaenys stories and I am glad you like this one. I have to admit that it is harder to write the more known characters than the others. Especially Daenerys and Jon, but since with Daenerys I changed so much of her background and her lack of traumatic events makes so that I will be more liberal with her portrait.

 **Morgan** : it had been some confusing and strange times, and thank you for your kind words. Oberyn is one of my favorite characters. Honestly, I mostly wrote this story because I wanted to see House Martell win and because I always found the concept of Rhaenys living something interesting, especially considering Young Griff. I hope I can make them justice. I am happy that you enjoyed my little surprised. I am curious to find out who has lived too.

 **South Down** : It will take some time to see them. I plan the next chapters to be quickly paced, but I don't plan to have them returning to Westeros for at least five chapters.

 **Guest (1)** : I find the mental issues that most characters have in ASOIAF very interesting. In a way, Rhaenys has very similarities with Aegon III in terms of trauma, and I always found him fascinating. You will find quite soon the type of queen she is. Honestly, I don't believe mental illness stops you from being a capable ruler. Ned Stark had PTSD had done very well ruling the North for 15 years. Stannis clearly, in my opinion, suffers some kind of trauma from seeing his parents die and from the siege of Storm's End, maybe even Blackwater, and he is one of my favorite in the books. Even Jaime has to overcome his traumas. And let's not forget Davos, the only person with common sense in Westeros.

I don't know if this was written it badly, but Rhaenys doesn't have to simply kill everyone. Just because she has a plans indeed plans to deal with her possible treats doesn't mean it is killing them. She is not the Mad King, I can assure you of that. Actually, she is more Tywin than Aerys.

 **Nanold** : thank you.

 **BlondeAli** : Of course Jon will have a chance to prove himself, he's Jon. I hope this chapter lightens a bit on the family dynamic.

 **Marvelmyra** : I think it comes for from being a product of her world. Unlike most female characters, Catelyn never once questions the patriarchy world of Westeros, and that comes with its views of women's role and religion. The first chapter in the books shows that she has never been comfortable in places like the godswood, and she always saw herself as a south woman in the north, and that is what bring the insecurities. Suddenly comes a beautiful girl (who is supposedly the daughter of Ashara) who is clearly confident, works as a trader, clearly made her own money, travel half a world in a ship, and disdains most of what she believes is a woman's role… they are going to crash.

 **Guest (2)** : You clearly don't like Sansa. At all. I confess I couldn't stand her in the beginning, but I can't say that she deserved what Joffrey and Ramsey did to her, because no one does.

 **Guest (3)** : thank you for pointing out the mistake. I'll try to keep it in mind.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"How could you have shown the boy the dragons? I told you. We cannot trust the Northerns," The man protested while pacing around her solar. "What will you do when they tell the usurper you have dragons? Young dragons that are easily killed?"

Rhaenys Targaryen ignored him not even taking her eyes off the ledger atop the desk. After all, she wasn't hearing anything new. Jon has been saying the same thing for the last two days. Or years, if taking out the dragons from the equation. After having to deal with Myrio and his puppet Prince of Pentos for three hours, Rhaenys had reached her quota of for today, and she no longer can deal with people repeating themselves, or worse, adding nothing to said petty arguments. At least it was already the middle of the afternoon.

"It this aversion to everyone born north of the neck because of the outcome of the Battle of Bells?" She asked sharply, as she pulled a report from merchant captain Byan Votyris, from the pile of papers on her left.

She heard his steps faltering and his pacing stopping _. Thanks, the Gods for small mercies_. Rhaenys went back to crossing the numbers, between her ledger and Byan trading reports. The results were troubling her of late. The Norvosi were annoying her with their incapacity of understanding that she was not a fool.

The city of Norvos was the largest producer of brocade textile (besides Yi-Ti). The richly decorative fabric was favored by the magisters of Pentos and Myr, to whom she sells the cloth, and also the Reach who pays very well for them. Their weaving techniques were unparalleled, and for she was quite pleased with the deal she had made in Norvos.

 _I wonder what Lady Olenna's face would be if she found Rhaegar's daughter is the one selling the brocade bolts to Highgarden seamstresses_.

Lady Mellario's family was one of the biggest producers of brocade, but they had never sold to Westeros until she broke the deal, being the intermediary between the Norvosi and the seamstress and cloth sellers of the Westeros. Even more impressive counting she sold the bolts of silk from the Jade Sea, and even the Dornish silk Norvos favored for their own fashion, to them.

That deal was one of the few good things that came from the disastrous marriage between Lady Mellario and Uncle Doran. They had wed for love, all knew, but grandmother had agreed to the match because the lady's dowry was larger than any highborn girl from Westeros could bring to the table, and the trade partnership connections favored Dorne. Love didn't last long. Mellario hated Westerosi costumes, hated the pressure of being the wife of the ruler of Dorne, and the Dornish way shocked her. According to her uncle Oberyn, Mellario never made any friends in Dorne, she barely spoke the Common Tongue, and most in court dislike her.

Uncle Doran was the opposite of his wife. He enjoyed mental exercises and long periods of silence, had little patience for whims, and frankly, he was terrible at any type of relationship that wasn't political or businesslike. When his wife loudly argued, he pensively listened. After the birth of Prince Trystane, the woman who had been full of life became more and more unhappy and unstable. It came done to the point Mellario threatened to harm herself, and at times would refuse to leave Trystane side or not wanting to even hear his name. Before Trystane was five, she returned to Norvos to take care of her dying father. Years after she made it clear that she would never return to Dorne.

"You know there is nothing to do with it. Do I need to remain you of the Blackfyres."

She stared at his pale, blue eyes and as her mouth slid into a sneer. "You of all people don't get to lecture me on the Blackfyres, or did you forget you were playing houses with for almost a decade?"

She knew when the man's eyes turned sorrowful, that she should not have brought Griff up. But it was said, and she would not apologize to him. She was tired of Connington's arguments and the blind way he saw the past. And he picked a bad day to annoy her. She barely slept last night, and yesterday she spent the day either in meetings or doing paperwork. She couldn't even remember her last proper meal. _Was it when I break my fast with Vaenor yesterday? Possible._

Rhaenys knew it wouldn't take long for Connington to warm up to Jon, and part of his argument to end. Furthermore, she had not forgotten who was the main supporter of her being wed to Viserys, as a way to solidify _his_ claim to the throne. _His_. Not _hers_. Dear Jon believed the Dornish would supply all their troops to put Viserys on the throne if she married him. Rhaenys still remembered the backlash he got from her uncle Oberyn about it. If Dorne would bleed it would be to put _her_ on the throne.

 _You want a Rhaegar reborn. And when you looked at me, you see Elia Martell. You see a consort princess, not a ruling queen._

"You know that I didn't know about Griff's true parentage." He said in a milder tone. "If I had known I would have never put my support behind him."

"What do you want me to do, Jon? Ignore I have family just because it causes more political troubles? Or is it because you don't like the woman who birthed him? I don't like her either, but I still deal with it." She stopped for a heartbeat to turn her eyes to him, giving him her full attention. "Tell me what your briliant plan is?"

"The Reach has the largest army and little love for the usurper. Mace Tyrell is a fool, but he is a influential fool. Find the way to marry one of the Tyrell boys and you'll have spears of Dorne and the sword of the Reach. And despite my objections to this trip of yours, you do have half of the North hostage. All the pieces are there for you to take the Iron Throne."

Rhaenys almost laughed at his ridiculous plan. Three moons and he was still going on about this. Seriously, did he learn nothing from Robert's Rebellion? Worse, did he not remember who the biggest Blackfyre supporters were? The Reach, supporting a _Dornish_ looking Targaryen _woman_? It was laughable. Mace Tyrell would take one look at them and marry his pretty daughter conniving daughter to Jon – _Jaehaerys_ \- find a way to get a place on the small council and spend his days telling how smart he was for marrying his rose to Rhaegar's son.

"I will not _beg_ Mace Tyrell for an alliance or sell myself for an army. It didn't turn out well the last time if you recall." She replied, getting a fresh parchment and her ink pot. "We have dragons. In time they will be big enough to mount. Big enough to conqueror."

"Then why are you going to Slaver's Bay of all places?"

 _I never said what I was going to conqueror._

"They need time to grow, time to bond with us." Her lips twisted into a sardonic smile. "Besides, I thought you would be pleased that I am bringing you along this time." She dripped her quill into the pot and lowering her head to begin to write. "Now, I have work to do, besides I promise my brother that I would have a private meal with him." She ignored the griffin lord from that moment on, and focused on making sure no trembling could be seen in her calligraphy.

She saw Simmon looking between the red-haired and herself as the door opened. Lonmouth was with him which was almost a surprise. Ser Richard has been one of her father's squires, and the only one to make it out of the Trident. He had been the one to guard her and Ashara in Braavos. He was a loyal man, if not given to plots and schemes, and he care for her deeply. Not because she was Rhaegar's daughter but because of who she was. He was one of the few.

The two stormlands traded a look, and Jon Connington left, clearly unpleased by her dismissal, by the loud crash of the door.

She went back to work, enjoying some silence for the first time in days. It lasted an hour but she had finished her accounting and most of her letter. The sound of skirts made it clear who her new visitor was, but as the woman made herself comfortable in the chamber. They stayed comfortably in silent for some time, her new companion allowing her to end her letter, only speaking when she finished sealing the message.

"Connington is not happy with you." The soft voice lacked any reprimand.

"I don't live to make him happy, that's what Simmon is for."

Ashara chuckled. "Are you ever going to forgive him?"

She looked up, to find the Lady Ashara Dayne sitting on the window seat, her posture regal but not commanding, staring at her with a patient look in her beautiful face. Despite her years, Ashara was still one of the most beautiful women she met. The most beautiful coming from Westerosi seed without a doubt. "I don't blame him for believing the spider's lies. He was not the first nor will he be the last to play into his web."

"I meant about what he said about your mother."

She stared at the woman who was her mother in all but blood and wondered if Ashara could see the cold rage in her eyes. The Lady of Starfall was probably the only person alive who would ask her something like this without any fear of repercussions.

"No."

"You know that-"

"Don't." she interrupt her. "I am not having this conversation again. I know very well that what Connington thinks is what most of the country thinks. I know history well. If you recall, it was my best subject of study, if not my favorite. I don't need you telling me, or asking me not to blame him constantly. Jon doesn't want a daughter, he wants my father spirit to live on. I told you when I came back. I am tired of playing nice with everyone who insults those I love behind my back or expects me to be someone I am not."

"Rhaenys." A voice came from the door, and she cursed herself from not paying closer attention to the door. _I should not have given Simmon leave to let Jon inside._

She put on a smile and turned to her brother and an Arthur Dayne who could barely look in her direction. _Great, they heard enough._ "Is it time for supper already?"

"Yes," Jon said almost uncertain.

"Ashara I am sure you and Dany can host our guests in the hall tonight." She didn't let the woman speak and turned to Arthur. "You can leave as well, Arthur, Jon and I will have dinner in my chambers."

* * *

Jon Snow followed his sister with an uncomfortable feeling inside him. He had spent most of his day with Dany and the dragons, learning all she knew of the lore of the creatures on their family banner. Even feeding them, which cause a smile to appear in his face at the memory.

 _Gods, the dragons_. Jon had dreamt of them, imagine them during Maester Luwin's lessons, but never he imagined seeing one. How could he, everyone knew dragons were death for more than a century.

Daenerys had explained that the dragon eggs had been found by Magister Illyrio, and according to Rhaenys, they had once been stolen from Dragonstone by a Lady Elissa who had been the lover of Queen Rhaena. Jon knew less of them than of dragons. It had been Rhaenys who hatched them on her last voyage, and it had been a shock when she showed her family the cargo she had brought from East. Daenerys said his sister found the answers she needed in Asshai and that it was why she had left without telling anyone where she was going.

"They would never allow her to go to Asshai. Never. So in Rhaenys fashion, she ignored them and followed her dreams." Daenerys had told him, as they fed the hatchlings.

It was so strange. Jon could feel it in his bones, in his blood, that Rhaegal as meant for him. Something that his aunt, so strange thinking Dany as his aunt, felt as well about her own hatchling, Viserion.

"I knew when I saw Viserion that he belonged to me."

Daenerys had named two of the hatchlings for her brothers: Rhaegal the green and bronze dragon that bounded with Jon with the bronze eyes, like the metal used for the crowns of the King's of Winter; and Viserion, her own dragon, black and red, with fire red eyes, the most Targaryen dragon since Balerion. However, Rhaenys named her own dragon, before she even showed them to Dany. Aerax. For the brother, she barely knew. The largest of the three, the blood-red beast had horns and wing membranes the color of was a pale blue almost grayish color. A strange combination.

 _"I meant about what he said about your mother."_ Lady Ashara had told Rhaenys, but it had been his sister's words that masked him.

 _"I am tired of playing nice with everyone who insults those I love behind my back."_

Jon Connington had been the cause of their argument. Jon had met the man who shared his name. He was cold, given to little words, and seemed to be tormented by something. Arthur told him that he had been friends with his father and that the Mad King made him the Hand during the Rebellion and that he lost the Battle of Bells causing his exile. That name he remembered for some of Maester Luwin's lessons. The battle that his father first fought to save Robert Baratheon that turned the tide of the war. It was strange to think that he was with spending time with people who fought against him. And he liked them. They were not the bad men he imagined in his childhood. Oberyn fought in the Trident. Vaenor's brother uncle died there. As did Prince Lewin Martell. Arthur and Oswell lost a brother there. Jon was starting to realize why Lord Stark never spoke of the war. No one seemed to. Lord Connington most of all.

In a way, the formal lord reminded him somewhat of Rhaenys, so it had been shocking to learn the two did not get along. Jon Snow wondered what the man had said about Princess Elia to make Rhaenys react that way.

"We're here," Rhaenys said entering her chambers.

The room was big, bigger than Jon's. Tall double windows lighten the room, where a comfortable window seat was decorated with pillows, a luxury carpet covered that area with soft cushions in various shades of purple. A writing desk stood nearby with a large bookshelf packed with books and scrolls behind.

On the right side of the room, there was a sleeping area, a large canopy bed with dark purple silk curtains. The bed was decorated in pillows of light purple and grey, and a lavender duvet. A large trunk sat end of the bed, a richly carved armoire and a dressing table stood against the wall, all in white wood.

Jon mentally added _Rhaenys likes light purple and white, probably grey as well_ , to the small list of things he about his sister.

On one side there was a white table with four chairs padded in an amethyst-like color. On the table, their meal waited for them. On the closest wall hand a fresco painting of a girl, she could not be more than three-and-ten, barely a maid with big, pale violet eyes, so expressive and curious, as she bit her low lip in thought, a quill in her right hand and a book in her left. She looked as if she was about to write something down, but was still undecided on what. It had taken Jon more than he liked to admit to realize who the girl in the painting was. But the dark curls, unbound and very long, the soft olive skin, and the delicate features of her face were unmistakable.

"That's you." _So innocent, lighthearted, untroubled._ So unlike the sister he met.

Rhaenys gave him a small smile that reached the corner of her eyes. "Yes. Aurane's mother painted it, a gifted for my twelve namesday."

"Aurane's mother is a painter?"

"She used to paint, but her hands have a shaking illness than stopped her from doing it. This was one of her last works. She had been sent to King's Landing in her youth to paint a portrait of Queen Rhaella, and fell in love with Lord Velaryon, well he was only a second son at the time." She pointed to the table. "Why don't we sit? What would you like to drink?"

"Some of that fruited water I drank this morning, if you have it."

"Of course." She poured each of them a goblet.

They sat in silence for some time, and Jon eyes couldn't help but gaze to the painting, comparing the two-and-ten maid with the seven-and-ten woman in front of him. If not for the similar features, that were so uncommon, he would never say they were the same.

"We all grew Jon." She spoke softly. He turned to her and felt his cheeks heating. "5 years passed since that portrait was painted. Are you the same boy you were five years ago?" He shook his head. "I dare say you won't be the same in five years time either."

"Dany told me you were married." She blinked, and for a second she seemed surprised.

"Yes. I wed a year after that portrait was painted. He was a year younger than me and he died eight moons after our wedding. He was Illyrio's younger son."

"Myrio's brother." Jon had met both. Illyrio was fat and jovial, but there was something sharp in his eyes. Myrio had his father yellow hair and dark brown eyes. He was tall and slim and dressed in soft colored robes, simple despite their rich textile. He looked like what Jon imagined a young maester to look like. He was soft spoken and had a calm aura to him.

He reminded Jon of Vaenor. Expect Vaenor looked like a prince that Sansa dreamt of and had a charisma that made one comfortable around. Not as sly has his brother, who Theon would envy for his natural way with women, but well- _like a kin_ g. Vaenor looked like what Jon imagined a King too. Like the tales of the Young Dragon or a young King Jaehaerys.

 _If Rhaenys husband was like his brother, Rhaenys must have loved him a great deal._

"Yes, from different mothers." Like Jon and Rhaenys. It made it curious. Maybe the brothers weren't that alike. "Myrio's mother was a daughter of a magister. Illryio took his wife's name when he wed her as part of the deal. She died in an accident. Griff's mother was named Serra. She was Lysine. It was quite the scandal when they wed, as many believed her to be well below Illyrio's status."

"Is she still alive?"

"No, she died from the grey plague."

 _Poor Illryio lost two wives. I wonder how he can be so cheerful all the time._

"Let's speak of happier things." Rhaenys said. "How do you like Pentos?"

"Is much warmer than Braavos."

She offered him a smile. "That is not hard. Braavos is one of the coldest cities in Essos. Have you visited the markets?"

"For a bit. Dany and I spent most of our time with the dragons."

"We can go tomorrow if you would like. Dany and I need to pick our gowns for the ball." Jon groaned, and she let a small laugh that surprised him. "It is the end of the year. The New Year Ball is the most important event in the city. You will see, all city celebrates it, and the Prince Palace is decorated in blues, greens, and yellows. For the fields and the sea that surround the city." She sipped her drink. "There is an interesting celebration by the end of the night when the new year is marked."

"Really? What is it?"

"The Prince deflowers two maidens, a daughter of the sea, and a daughter of the fields."

Jon chocked on his cake.

"Don't worry, the girls have to be over eight-and-ten, willing and well informed, and it happens behind closed doors. Most of the times, there are princes who allowed his special guests to watch, even engage in some of the acts. They are picked for their beauty and their trade, and if any seed takes root, the child is considered a prince in all but name. A sign from the gods that the Prince of Pentos is god-touched."

"That is a strange costume."

"Not at all, the eve of the new year is considered a time for celebration and passion. A goodbye and a new beginning. You will see that many babes will be born in nine moons. The Rhonyar used to pick this night to declare wed or propose marriage. In the Palace of Love, there would be twelve weddings on the first day of the year, one for each month to come."

"I like that tradition."

"Me too. It is practice in Dorne, almost all the member of House Martell marry on the first day of the year. The Orphans of the Greenblood still have the twelve marriages on that day. They wed on boats, in the light of the dawn."

"In the north, there is a feast to celebrate if we are not in the winter time. During the winter the Lord of Winterfell opens its Great Hall to everyone. They feast all day, sharing the happiest moments of the year passed and mourn those they lost."

"That is a good tradition as well." Something told Jon, Rhaenys already knew of it. "We can do it this year as well. I can have the servants prepare the courtyard, and we can celebrate it after the ball. Spend the first day of the year like that."

* * *

Vaenor Velaryon awoke with the sun on his eyes. A tent did little to hide the sunlight from his eyes, and he could feel his body protesting about sleeping on the grass. However, he was warm, despite the nakedness of his body thanks to the furnace that was the woman resting on his chest.

He was pleased Myrio's tent was placed in a hidden corner of the palace, it allowed them some privacy. Myrio was probably still in the large bed the Prince of Pentos was using. A voice that sounded too much like Aurane commented, that Myrio literally has the prince of Pentos by the balls. Aurane was probably enjoying some bored magister's wife. Probably the Princess of Pentos, if he knew his brother. _The gods know that woman needs some pleasures in life._ The Aelinor Penrose of Pentos.

He looked at the woman laying atop of him, her dark curls spread across his chest, covering her parts of her naked back. _I really should end this._ Falling for temptation was never good. And bedding the woman you love but refuses to wed you never ends well. Vaenor wasn't an idiot, he knew Rhaenys better than anyone else alive. He knew what she did and did not. He followed her to the ends of the world- literally – and would do it again. He would, however, bring warmer clothes the second time around. But there was a voice that reminded him that he would never fully have her. He would never convince her to wed him.

 _He did_. Vaenor tightened his grip on her small waist. Thinking of that devious pirate was never a good way to wake up. How he had her in the palm of his hand, in his ship, for months _. And we did nothing. He did gods knows what to her, and we did nothing_. She returned with dragons, but only Vaenor knew the cost of it. _It wasn't worth it_.

He looked at his sleeping beauty. She looked peaceful in her sleep. She always looked peaceful in his arms. _I should have never let her flip from my fingers_. He had pushed her to wed that murmur of a dragon, and how could he not. Vaenor loved her, but he also knew she would be the best ruler since the Old King. _I am no Sea Snake or Laenor Velaryon. I had no fleet or army to offer her._

What can the second son of a dying house offer her?

"I can hear you thinking." She murmured from her chest. Her voice was raspy from sleep. "It's morning. You should have awakened me."

"I wanted to let you sleep more than a few hours. You need to rest."

"Is that your way of saying I look tired?" She quipped.

"Yes. You barely sleep for five hours. When you sleep at all." He would knower, they share a bed. It was the main reason why she couldn't lie about her sleeping schedule.

"I'll sleep on the trip to Slaver's Bay." She looked at him with calm eyes. He loved waking up with her. It was the only time she was truly unmasked. And he knew it would not be possible while on the ship. What meant he would not be able to know how many hours of sleep she got. "Now, I have a better idea on what to do." He left her hand on his lower body and pulled him for a kiss.

* * *

Vaenor took note of each reaction from their guess to the dragons, as he pretended to get drunk in Dornish Red. Most still seem to be incapable of understanding what they were seeing, and only Domeric Bolton and Alysanne Dustin appeared to realize the implication of what dethroned Targaryen with three dragons could bring upon the world. Domeric Bolton was not a problem. He seemed to take his life debt to the Sand Snakes very seriously. A First Men thing, it appeared. Alysanne Dustin, however, if she was anything like her mother, and Vaenor would bet she is, she is already plotting how to help conqueror Westeros and threw it in Ned Stark's face.

 _Maybe they should wed Barbrey Dustin to Jon Connington._

"The northerners seem well charmed." Ser Gerold Dayne quipped, joining him on the balcony.

"Rhaenys is good at charming First Men." He quipped back.

"These aren't as wild as the last ones." The Dayne knight added with a grin. Vaenor looked around to make sure they were alone. It would not do well to have people putting the pieces together.

"You seemed to have liked the women. What was the name of the one you were half in love with? Dalla"

"That was her sister. And you know her name was Val. I am pretty sure Rhaenys fake name is in her honor. And you would enjoy them as well if you weren't so-"

"Faithful." Vaenor finished him off, knowing his friend had a long list of less favored names. _He does it to get a reaction out of me. If I betrayed Rhaenys, Gerold would make me the next Varys. I pity, however, will marry Myria._

"You devotion to Rhaenys is unparallel."

"You are devoted to her as well. It might not be the same way, or for the same reasons, but you'll die to make her queen, same as me."

"I would die to see Casterly Rock burn. Not before."

"Oberyn wants Clegane, you want Lorch."

"And Rhaenys wants Tywin. It seemed like a fair share. I want the Usurper for brother, but Rhaenys put a stop to it." They both looked at the woman they called queen as she spoke with the Bolton heir and the Lady Alysanne Dustin. Jon Snow, was once again, blushing and stammering at Princess Arianne's attention. _Daemon behind them trying to hide his grin. Those three are going to end up in bed together, unless Jon protests._

"That boy needs some encouragement." Gerold spoke. "I don't think Arianne had too much trouble seducing someone."

"She doesn't want to bed him, she wants to wed him."

"You two should bond. At least you got into the sheets."

"Keep your voice down." Vaenor snapped at him.

"Please, like everyone doesn't know what you and Rhaenys do when you're alone. Be glad she was supposed to be a widow, so no one would care her lack of maidenhood." He stopped talking, and in Vaenor experience that would mean Gerold next words would not be pleasant. "Poor Willas, he'll get to wed her, but you'll always have her maidenhead."

 _I didn't have it. Not that any of you know it. And bring Willas doesn't annoy me anymore. I am not ten._ "I don't think Willas will care for the lack of blood on the sheets." He took a gulp of wine. "Didn't you hear the thousand times she said it to Connington. She is not planning to marry Willas."

"And we both know that is bullshit. She'll leave Slavers Bay and turn her eye west soon or later. Willas Tyrell is the obvious choice. Or Garlan Tyrell, but he lacks his brother's brains."

"Willas Tyrell can bring the weight of the Reach, true. But you forget she already has people in the reach willing to fight for her." Vaenor stopped and looked at the woman he loved his entire life, now talking with Manderly and Umber as well. "Robb Stark can bring two kingdoms, three with luck. And he comes from an unbroken line of 6000 years, while 300 years ago the Tyrell's were nothing more than stewards." _300 years ago no one would bat an eye at me marrying her. It would be expected._

It pleased Vaenor to shock Gerold. How could no one see it was beyond him? Do they think she wouldn't look at Robb Stark because he was still young? Or because he was a Stark?

"She wouldn't."

"Why not? Lord Stark has two other sons to take his name. It would heal wounds of the rebellion. Make no mistake, if there was a Baratheon she could marry, and no, Renly is not an option, she would kill him a moon into the marriage for driving her nuts with his flamboyant ways, she would wed him."

"Robb Stark?" Gerold spoke as if the word tasted bad.

"Winter is Coming."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Another chapter and new POV.

 **Morgan** : Everything is going nicely, I hope you're well too. I feel you, I never shipped Dany and Jon, but I love reading about them as having a close family bond. They do have a lot in common. It makes me happy that you found the scene between them emotional, and thank you so much for your kind words.

 **EmpireReign** : I can hint that who I will pair with Daenerys is someone who already has been already introduced, and has a lot in common with her.

 **ElyzabetShardlake** : Thank you for your kind words.

 **DarkFireCat5241999** : I think like most wars, both sides can be faulted. Catelyn should not have taken Tyrion without strong evidence. She had to know what would happen. And Edmure Tully should let Ned and Robert deal with the King Justice instead of attacking back. Tywin would be screwed if Robert survived the hunting for attacking the Riverlands. But with Robert death, Ned was doomed too. It was Littlefinger who manipulated Joffrey into killing Ned, and he wouldn't care which side was winning at the time, as long it got Ned killed. The war would happen either way, but the Stark would be neutral or do what they wanted if Cat didn't take Tyrion.

 **The G'ddam Dark Knight** : Yes I do have the paring in mind. This chapter shows some light on this, but remember it is POV's thoughts on it. I am not promising a Robb/Rhaenys or a Rhaenys/Willas. And just because someone is a couple now doesn't mean they will end up together. As for Dany, as I said to EmpireReign, Daenerys will be paired with someone who we already met.

 **Zukafew119** : I wanted people on Team Targaryen (and not because they were Martell's or crown loyalists) during the Rebellion to still be alive and not be in love with Rhaegar and who better than Rhaegar BFF's who are badass fighters and white swords? Jon never has a warning when important people meet around him. Yes, Team Targaryen-Martell just sign a long term alliance with Domeric Bolton (Roose Bolton is another story). I always wanted to see the Northerners in Essos, so I did it. Rhaenys is nothing if not A Woman With a Plan (or various). Jon is a treat, let's marry him into mom's family, Arianne likes pretty boys either way, and the babies would be cute. Oberyn wants to build a wall of mini-hims around Rhaenys to protect her from the world- but the Sand Snakes like turning the world upside down with their cousin- so he is outnumbered. If there is something the Rebellion taught Rhaenys is that family is the most important and needs to be protected at all costs. Doran shares that line of thought as well. I always respond to reviews, you deserve it for taking the time to read and comment on it.

 **Star1X** : Jon will not forget that he is a wolf and a dragon.

 **Diana** (1): Barbrey Dustin is a character I hate that they cut off because I want to much to see what goes on in that woman's head. I am happy that you took notice of the clothes, yes I like to tease meaning behind it. (The robe was totally Vaenor's, and Rhaenys likes to be comfy in her BF clothes). It made me smile that someone realizes the meaning behind the black in braavos. I always like those culture difference to be so interesting. You got Vaenor and Rhaenys in this chapter, I hope you liked it. Yes Tywin should hide from Team Martell – especially when they are united for a common goal.

 **Diana** (2): Dany is much more politically aware and trained in this story. She had an education worthy of an heir. It pissed me off the lack of mentions of Rhaella, the poor woman deserves to be remembered and Dany will make sure it happens. Dany wants all the family she can get and wants them to want to be there. The fact that Ashara doesn't have white hairs from all the peacekeeping she maintains is evidence for the existence of magic. Myria, Gerold, Vaenor, and Rhaenys are BFF's who went through shit together and would kill for each other. Jon Con is always unhappy (half-joking!), the man always carries cream. I can confirm that Rhaenys was in fact, married to a Blackfyre (and it was complicated). As for Dragons: only death can pay for life. POV changed a bit this time, but there were no council meetings.

 **Valen Goncalvez** : I hope you are ok from the wait ;) if not, breathing exercises usually work for me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry for the lack of update, life has been a crazy mess of storms after storms. On the good side, I'll graduate in less than two months. It feels like a lifetime. But I had to refuse the job I wanted and find work closer to home, because unfortunately my sister has not been well and was hospitalized in rehab in May which takes off the magic of my last year of college away, and most things really, and left me with little time to breath much less write. Doctors believe she will be back home by the end of next month if the progress she has been making is any indication. I hope so. I also hope that I can write more now that I have more free time. I've been scribing another story as well for half a year now. A female Jon time travel story, where she ends up in the time of the Dance of the Dragons. But I had put it down when I began to have troubles in keeping up with this one. I blame my best friends and her obsession with time travels fics for this and the fact she gave my Fire and Blood back in November for my birthday for my renewed desire for it. I might publish the story but I would like a beta to help me, so if anyone is interested please message me.

* * *

Chapter 12

Daenerys barefoot steps took her to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. The cook smiled openly upon seeing her but was not surprised, as it was common for her to appear to break her fast early in the morning. She, however, was surprised at the blonde woman sitting on the table. Tyene was eating some fresh bread with jam in it, and eggs. The pale blue silks that bare her arms and collarbone still made her look more chaste than most. Her golden hair was pulled back from her face, an indication that she had been outside, almost as much as the fact she was awake at such an early hour.

"Morning Tyene." She said, kissing her cheek.

"Morning Dany."

"Good morning Tya," Daenerys said to the cook in Pentosi as she took her seat.

"Morning little princess." The plump cook spoke, placing the plate in front of her.

Tya worked in the Manse since it was built. She worked on Myrio's grandfather's palace since her maiden years, and now was the woman responsible for the kitchens. The fifty years old woman commanded her workplace and most of the servants with a sweet tone and a heavy hand, most of the times holding a wooden spatula. Even Myrio would obey Tya when entering the kitchen.

"Her Grace has been up all night, doing paperwork and the likes of it." Tya confided in Dany and Tyene after sending away the servants with tasks. "That pretty boy of hers kept her company most of the time and forced some food on her. She told Kia to prepare her rooms for a two people lunch and to bring those drinks her brother seemed to have enjoyed."

Dany already knew Jon and Rhaenys would have broken their midday meal together, something that pleased Dany. They needed time together to bond, and Rhaenys spend her days working or on meetings. There was no way to connect with family.

"Myrio send this one to tell he would be here in an hour with his plaything." The portly woman pointed to the Sand Snake.

"He's the Prince of Pentos." Tyene chimed in.

"His Myrio's plaything and if even a cook in a manse knows it, so does all of Pentos."

"A very well informed cook it seems." Tyene murmured in a heavy accented Pentosi.

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady. Myrio is as cunning as his father and twice as enticing. I've seen in with that Prince of his. If he is not a plaything I do not know what he is."

"His lover?" Dany tried to guess.

"Sweet girl, Rhaenys and her pretty boy are lovers. Myrio and that fool are not lovers. They are like that puppet show Lady Serra used to take the children to see in the markets."

"Maybe Myrio learn from the mummers then."

"That he learned from mummers I have no doubt." The cook said then went back to her task. And you can try as you'd like, but I know a mummer when I see one, young lady. I have my eyes on you. I won't have little Myrio being anyone's puppet."

"That cook is way too smart," Tyene commented in the common tongue. Little did Tyene know, but Tya knew the language. Dany hid her smile in her food. "And if there is a puppet master, it's Rhaenys, not me."

"Well, Tya never found Myrio in bed with Rhaenys." Dany pointed out. "With the Prince of Pentos as well."

"That you know off."

"Rhaenys doesn't bed idiots," Dany replied. "Everyone knows it."

"And who is the little princess interested in bedding?"

"I am three-and-ten."

"Arianne was a year older. Nym was your age." Tyene grinned and Dany knew she was in trouble. "I can tell you, Domeric Bolton, for a Northerner knows his way around a woman. And is not a ferocious as I would imagine."

"I didn't need to know that." Dany tried to hide the jealousy. Tyene was twenty, and the prettiest of Oberyn's daughters. With golden hair and deep blue eyes, and soft olive skin, and while not as voluptuous as Arianne or even Rhaenys, there was no denying she looked like a woman. While Dany was small, with little breasts, and only just flowered. She was even closer to age with Tyene than her.

"Don't pout. He had little interested passed a few nights. And I was more curious than interested. Now you two, I've seen the two of you talk in the gardens. Very cozy I might add."

"I am a child to him. We were talking about our love for horses and music, nothing more."

"Then take him for a rise." Tyene winked, before getting up. "Now I must go, get a rider of my own."

"Don't listen to that girl, you are too young for such thoughts," Tya spoke as soon as they were alone.

"But he's so gentle, and he likes horses and music, and he wants to be a knight. A true one." Dany looked at her half-full plate. "He's so handsome." She added dreamily.

"A little paler if you ask me. And those eyes are a bit queer."

"I like his eyes. And his paleness, and his hair."

"I get it. You've been charmed. But you're still too young."

"Women are wed at three-and-ten. Viserys used to say I would be wed as soon as I had my moon blood."

Tya pressed her lips together. "Eat, then you can go and dream about pretty boys."

* * *

Daenerys knocked on Ashara's chambers as soon as she finished her midday meal and her duties for the day. The lady in question was sitting on her desk with a ledger of her own, a concentration look on her face. The familiar scene brought a smile to her face. Ashara had been the first lady to teach Dany how to run a household. In the year she spent in Pentos, she used to spend her days as the shadow of the lady of Starfall, learning how to keep the books at her tableside. In Dorne, it had been her tutor and even Arianne who taught her, but she had missed Ashara's motherly touch.

 _Ashara should have been a tutor, she had the touch for it. I can see why Rhaenys love for numbers came about, with such a good initiation._

"Illyrio should hire a matron," Dany commented. Ashara had been the lady of their household for years, but she would be living soon with them, meaning the household would need a new manager.

"Myrio found one. An old aunt of the Princess of Pentos." Ashara tone implied all that was left out. A puppet and hostage. Sister of the second most powerful magister. But there was something else in her face, a tightness that didn't belong in her usual serene expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Rhaenys and Jon had a fight."

Something inside Dany stopped working. _No. Not so soon._

"Oh Dany, not Jae. Connington."

"Oh, that's not new," Dany said sitting down next to her. The tightness on her heart going away. Much like Rhaenys, Dany had little love for the Griffon lord. But Dany's came from the fact the lord in question care little for Dany, and would, on occasion, look at her with distrust. _He looks at me like he is waiting for me to become my father_. _Other times he probably imagines who he can sell me off to for an army_. "They are always arguing about something."

Ashara took a deep breath. "In a kinder world, Connigton would raise Rhae with me, and they would form the familiar bond neither admits to wanting. Jon would have the child he always wanted, and Rhaenys would have a father she could look up to."

"Rhae once told me the world was a cruel place and cruel to the weaker."

"Rhaenys is too cynical. Much like the man Jon grew up to be." Dany held the woman's hand. The only mother she knew and tried to send some kindness into her. Dany knew that Ashara, much like Prince Oberyn, felt like she failed both Elia and Rhaenys. She would always remember the face of Prince Oberyn when news of Rhaenys disappearance arrived in Dorne.

"But she is not cruel. Or spiteful. Despite all that has been thrown at her. I think that proves that you raise her well."

"Oh Dany," Ashara eyes soften. "You are too gentle for this world. So much like your mother. Like Elia. Like my own mother." Dany let her head down, but Ashara didn't let her go far down before holding her chin high in her small hand. "Never let anyone tell you gentleness is a weakness. It is thanks to compassionate people that our world doesn't fall to even more darkness and cruelty." Dany nodded, then after some silence, Ashara patted the hand that was holding hers. "Now, I don't believe you came to see me to hear old woman lamentations."

"You are not old. And," Dany bit her lip. "Do you think I am too young to know love. To like someone?"

"No one is too young for love, Dany," Ashara said with a knowing smile.

"How old were you when you first fell in love?"

"I was five-and-ten. I barely knew the world, but I know I loved him."

Dany did the math in her head. "Was it Ned Stark?"

"Someone in Dorne gossips too much." She said, pressing her lips together. "Yes, it was. I believed that he was the nicest of man. He didn't look down upon me or wish to bed me nor did he brag how he got the prettiest girl in the room to pay attention to him above all others."

"Do you still love him?"

"I care deeply for him. I feel proud of the man he became, the man I always knew he was. Compassionate and honorable and dutiful. A man who would make a good father, and a respected lord. I look back and I think what could have been very happy with him."

"But he broke your heart. He married another." _He left you alone and with child. A child you lost._

"It was a hard time Dany, and choices had to be made. At the time I rage and cried. I wanted to claw his eyes and hit him, to hurt him as he did me, and kiss him and hold him in my arms to the point he would love me again."

Love seemed too hard. Myrio had to share his. Aurane never seemed to find it. Rhaenys hide hers, and Vaenor was heartbroken half the time. Arianne would never be with hers. And Nym's would marry a lordling. Even Connington would never fully open his heart to Simmon. The only people who seemed genuine have a good relationship, a love worthy of the tales, were Oberyn and Ellaria, and they would never be allowed to wed.

 _And mother... did she ever knew love? Did she have a boy that made her heart race? Or did she only know sadness and pain? Did she love Rhaegaer, Viserys and I, regardless of whom fathered us? Did she have moments where she wished we were never born? Does she hate me for killing her?_

"Now tell me who this boy is?"

Dany blushed, but something told her that Ashara already knew. "Domeric." She whispered.

"The Bolton boy. He's seemed nice." Ashara seemed to think over the next words. "Do you know the history of House Bolton?"

"Domeric told me some. It is not very nice."

"No, it is not."

"Neither is mine." Dany shrugged. "Doesn't make me cruel or mad, while would it make Domeric? He is kind and good, like the knights of the stories."

Ashara smiled, and her eyes sparkled, and Dany saw the something of Maid of Starfall whose beauty was still talked about.

"Let's find you something nice to wear. I'll tell the halfmaster you're busy, and you'll take the boy on a trip to the markets. I'll have the horses ready for you."

* * *

They ended up at a puppet show that drew attention for people of all ages. An adaptation of a Pentosi tragic love story, but for more childish ears, where Dany had to translate to Domeric the lines being said, as he had no education in the language, and only spoke bits of High Valyrian. At the end of the show, they rode and walked around the city.

The tale of the two lovers and their cruel parents made her reticent for some time. Especially since the two lovers only found happiness in their next life.

"The true story is sadder." Dany found herself telling Domeric as they explored the dockside. Two guards silently trailing after them. Dany wondered if they were more but better hidden. Knowing Ashara and Rhaenys, it was likely.

"Really, Princess?"

"Rhaenys had the book that inspires the show on her private collection. I read it not long ago." Domeric's pale blue eyes turned to her. In the late afternoon light, they looked two moons. He looked at her inquisitive. "The story is longer and much cruel. The lordling hated the king because once his wife was mistreated by him, and they hated each other since. Their older son had tried to avenge their mother but ended up dying causing a war between the two families. When the prince and the lady fell in love, the king called it witchcraft and tried to have her burn, but she escaped in time and ran back home. The king then waged war on the lady's lands, accusing them of witchcraft and treason, and ends up killing her brothers. Causing their lady mother to commit suicide. Drove mad, the lordling kidnaps the Queen and her young son and does unspeakable things to them." Things that made Dany surprise that Rhaenys would read such take and not wish to burn the book down. "In response, the prince, now king, challenged the lordling to a duel to the death. The duel is a very bloody passage and they are so cruel to one another. The lady tries to stop them, she gives a heartbreaking speech about lost, pain and war, but it does nothing. As she is pushed back by the guards."

"How does it end?"

"The lady fights the guards and ends up being hit, unknown to them, she was with child and ended up dying stopping the duel. The father blames the King as it was their guards to did the crime, and ends up attacking them, killing himself and the guards in the process. In the end, the prince, now king, is alone and empty."

"That is so heartbreaking," Domeric said quietly. "Do you know who wrote it?"

"I have no idea. But it took me a long time to read it because I was always crying or getting mad at everyone."

"I can understand it. The play we saw was much less sad now that I knew the original story. What do you think the writer meant with it?"

"That life is sad? Everyone is either killed by jealousy or madness. Or both. Everyone is so miserable. Honestly, I hated it when I read it."

"You don't like sad tales princess?"

"I heard or saw enough sadness." She confessed looking down. "That tale could very well have my family name in it and I would believe it."

"I don't remember the rebellion. I was four or five at the time."

"Like Rhaenys."

"Does she remember anything?"

Dany nodded, sadly.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked shyly.

"Of course princess."

"Do you remember your mother?"

"Very well. She died when I was three-and-ten. She had dark brown hair and brown eyes. She was kind, very kind. She taught me to sing and play the harp. She hated the Dreadfort. Not that I blame her. I don't think she hated my father, but she didn't like him either. I don't blame her for that either. Despite all, she always had a smile for me." He grew pensive for some time. "Did anyone told you about my brother?"

"Yes." She said softly. "He tried to kill you."

"I've always wanted a brother. My mother tried for many years to have more children, but they never survived. I think it broke her slowly on the inside. When I heard I had a brother I was so happy. Even if it meant father had been unfaithful. I don't think it surprised me much. But when he tried to kill me I asked around. The stories I heard of Ramsey. The cruelty. I never imagined my own brother capable of such. then I found his mother. She was a miller's wife who my father raped in front of her husband. My own father. He was always cold.m Nothing I could make made him proud or smile. He never had a kind word for me. That was all mother. But I never imagined him capable of such cruelty."

"I know all about cruel fathers. My father never raped anyone that I know off, except for my mother." Dany touched the necklace that she never took off.

"I can't help but think that he might have done it to mother as well. But she never told me. And now I can't help but hate him."

"I hate my father," Dany confessed her. "I hated what he did to so many innocents. I hate how he treated the women of his family. He was the king, he was supposed to protect his people, not burn them alive."

They stopped for some time, sitting in a rocky stool by the docks. After some moments of comfortable silence, Dany found herself confessing more to this Northern knight. "I fear him." Domeric's pale eyes turned to her in confusion. "I fear becoming like him. Mad. Like my father, like Viserys. They say every time a Targaryen is born the gods slip a coin. What if mine slipped badly."

"I don't think it is that simple, princess. " Something changed in his eyes, a solemn heaviness that reminded her of Rhaenys. "The Dreadfort is a terrible place. Very aptly named if you asked me. But despite all my father did and my family is known for, I cannot stomach even the thought of mistreating a woman. I not saying I wouldn't do questionable things for those I love. Lord Horton once told that when pushed the right, or wrong, way a man is capable of anything. I cannot be that cruel like my father or Ramsey. They enjoyed it. And that to me is unthinkable. Maybe that makes me soft like my father so likes to say, but I will rather be my mother child than my father's."

"So do I." She said and touched his hand with hers. "I hope wherever they are, our mothers can look down upon us and be proud."

"I hope so too Princess."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This chapter is shorter than I wished, but I changed some of my plans for it. I can confirm that the fact this chapter is all Dany's POV is my way of dealing with the characters assassination that happened in the last season of the show.

 **JimmyHall24** : It makes very happy that someone wants to see them. Unfortunately, Jon might need a push. Or advice for some "friendly" ears. For his sake, I hope its Vaenor and not Oberyn or Gerold giving love advice to the sensible Northern boy.

 **ElyzabetShardlake** : I am glad you enjoy the characters. I confess it is hard to write so many different characters. I try to give them all the time, even if a little, and a back-story. Trust me, a Robb and Rhaenys marriage would not go well in most of Team Martell-Targaryen camp. But remember that I write this as the books, by POV, meaning they are not always right in their thoughts or believes… Think that you have yet to read Rhaenys own thoughts on her plans for marriage.

 **Morgan** : Viserion turning out to be a precious cinnamon roll is canon in my mind, and no one can convince me otherwise.

I completely agree with you. What they did to House Martell pain me deeply. And I hate how they made smaller houses insignificant when they can be very important and are important for the Game of Thrones. Rhaenys herself is "curious" about whom she would possible wed. She has a list of pros and cons for every bachelor in Westeros. Willas is on top 3 of that list. Willas Tyrell behind completely forgotten is a crime, and I am glad the fanbase keeps writing him. I've read so many good stories with him as one of the main characters that I feel that he was always an important character in my mind. Besides my best friends once showed me a picture of Willas cast as Tom Hiddleston, and no other man of Westeros came close to owning my heart ever again.

 **Jason Kreuger Myers** : The Starks are one of the points of tension on Team Martell-Targaryen. Even if they are not the Baratheon's or the Lannister's, to loyalists they are still traitors and 'The Usurpers Dog'. But they do respect Ned Stark because he's Ned Stark and no one blames him for the war, he was probably one everyone agrees had reasons to revolt. And yes it is important for the Martells that he wanted Justice for Elia and her children. (In my story, Ned had her bones and that of her children delivered to Sunspear) Lyanna however… let's just say she gets little sympathy in this camp. Gerold is mostly angry and vengeful at the Lannister who killed his baby sis and mother than anyone else. And yes, Eddard Stark will always be Jon's father.

 **Guess (1)** : Your words on Rhaenys are so truthful and it brings me joy that people are reacting to Rhaenys so positively, and understand the complex situation she is in. I can say that Vaenor is probably the one person who knows the most about what Rhaenys has been through, and not even him knows the darkest parts. And you are right about Ashara and Daenerys, but I would add Vaenor to the list.

Connington's relationship with the children of Rhaegar and its loyalties are complex. I brought it more in this chapter because of your review.

Rhaenys innocent died slowly and painfully, I can tell you that. The pirate helped a great deal. Euron will appear, as a plan for later, and yes, I'll try to make him as close to Book Euron as possible.

 **Guest (2)** : Writing Sansa is always complex in my mind because when I first read it AGoT I hated her. Then she grew on me on a second read, and her story hit a little close to home for me as a formal victim of abuse, but I feel like she hasn't hit the great potential I wanted for her. I wanted a turning point where she would become the Red Wolf, a kindhearted with dreams of better words, and the brain to actually build it. I wanted her and Dany to be friends, using their experiences to build a better world as the dreamers they are, but no, of course not, girls with such similar life experiences and pains would never bound and become friends and allies, my poor dreamy stupid heart.

 **Guest (3):** I agree with you. Sansa's is the product of her environment in the same way that Cat and even Cersei (to a more extreme way) are. Young Sansa leaves in a fantasy world and has her eyes open in a horrible way. Cat only sees her children and not even that with a clear mind, as she is blinded to what her children really are and want, to the world around her. However, either of them, who see the wrongs of the world, actually do anything to try and change it. That is what makes me not like their characters as much as others who see the wrongs in the world and which to correct it, even if sometimes the outcome is not what they wanted. Even Cersei, before her madness, knew how hypnotic the patriarchy world is but was too traumatized to change it in a positive way when she finally found herself in a position of power (and people keep ignoring she was a victim of abuse ). I cannot say Sansa deserved what she got, because like I said before, her abuse hits to close to home, but I think she takes too long (even post ned's death) to wake up the truths of the world. Even after everything she still believes the Tyrell's to be pure and holy good because they're pretty…Girl have you not learn anything with Joffrey. And in the books, she is already half charmed with Harry the Arse because he's pretty to look at. And don't even let me start with Littlefinger (who is one of my favs because I like morally corrupt characters but highly intelligent characters)

 **Guest (4):** I don't have a Beta so no matter how many times I re-read, mistakes are still made.

 **Valen Goncalvez** : Thank you.

 **Dcepeda94** : I'm sorry I meant treat.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Alysanne Dustin tried to hide her grin as she watched Jon and Alan Umber through up their midday meal into the sea. The two huge men had the worst case of ship sickness, it would seem, and just three days out of Pentos and they were already on their way to lose a stone if they kept this up. Alysanne and Dacey, both women of the north, were not throwing out their meals into the sea, as they were used to the trips between Bear Island and Barrowtown.

 _Serves them well,_ she remembered their typical comments about the weakness of women _._ The heir to Barrowtown was tired of the way they spoke of women. Not that they said such things out loud anymore. Not with the number of capable women around to prove them wrong.

Alysanne watched the woman commanding the ship, clad in a woolen green skirt, a white tunic embroidered with gold thread and a vest that made her curves even more appealing to the eye, and not at all the image of what a ship captain supposed to look like. But despite it, she still commanded this ship, and the men obey her.

 _I want men to look at me like that. To listen to every word and not undermining my orders._

Mother had the respect of the people of the barrow lands, something that took a lot of time, blood and sweat, but while Alysanne loved her mother and adored that she allowed her to pursue un-lady like lessons, even going as far as writing to Lady Maege Mormont to have her foster with her bears. _And giving me my Dacey in the process._

Barbrey Dustin was as cold as the wall, many though, and sometimes even her daughters would think it, but she wasn't cruel like Domeric's father. She expected her daughters to be the best they could, and had no problem and telling them when they failed. But she also praised when deserved. But her daughters not always thought that. Alysanne had once believed her mother unfeeling and too stern. Ironically, it was in Bear Island that Alysanne learned to understand her mother. It was in the actions, not the words.

When Alysanne confessed her desire to train in martial pursues, her mother had her fostered her in the only place where those desires would be cultivated instead of crushed. Something that was not well-received from the Ryswell part of her family.

When Bethany showed her interest in numbers, her mother sent for a merchant, trained in a guild, to teach her more of the art, despite the master's protests of being unseemly for a lady.

She did the same with the many proposals for betrothals or outright marriages. No daughter of hers would be wed before her six-and-ten nameday. But Alysanne was the heir to one of her most desired seats in the North, and Bethany was growing into a true northern beauty, so proposals came constantly.

Lady Dustin did not promise they would wed someone they loved. She, however, promised they would wed men worthy of them, who would respect their wives and never raise a hand against them. Barbrey Dustin refused to let her daughters suffer as she and even worse, Aunt Bethany did.

She heard Princess Daenerys laughter as her dragon came to lick her cheek, causing Domeric to turn to fast, and fall on his ass even faster, a gift from Dacey swift move. She gave her cousin a grin and turned to kiss her Dacey in the cheek. The taller woman blushed when Lady Nymeria winked at them, but the men did not say horrible things. It was so freeing, being open with Dacey, or as open they could be. No one spoke a word against it in this ship. Not when Lady Nymeria did nothing to hide her love affairs with ladies of her gender, or when Obara cut the hand of a man who tried to show Lady Nym what 'a real strong man should do with a woman like her'. The eldest Sand had only slight beat the lady in question and their father in defending her honor. Prince Oberyn then had to be calmed or they would risk him killing a Pentosi magister. _I should have been born in the Dorne._ Remembering the invitation of Nymeria Sand had made to them to share her bed, Alysanne threw her a cold glare. The Dornish beauty turned back to the conversation she was having with her cousin, but her viper eyes were mirthful.

"You look like your mother when your jealous my love. You have the eyebrow raised and the curl of your lip copy to perfection," Dacey whispered. "Either way, I prefer my lovers with a bit more sternness. I like a winter rose, not a summer flower."

"I am no flower." She turned to the group of chatting ladies, "And you would be a fool if you think any of them are simply pretty flowers. Despite the yards of pretty silks they wear."

"And they are very pretty silks"

It was true. Princess Arianne, somehow still looked like a perfect Dorne heiress, after days at the sea. She was gazing at the fight between Ser Daemon Sand and Jon Snow. A great show for Ser Daemon was swift and his footwork the envy of many and despite his youth, Jon Snow was keeping with the pace. For a green boy, the not at all Bastard of Winterfell was proving himself a worthy swordsman. A skilled archer as well, as he took upon himself to practice with his sister an hour per day, the hidden queen was tremendously skilled with a longbow, and few in the ship could stand against her. Yet, Alysanne was winning 2 to 1 _. I am losing 3 to 1 to Sarella Sand, however._ The Summer Islander blood was strong in Sarella and not just in her appearance. That girl was as deadly with a bow as she was with a book. She was currently on working shift.

Ser Arthur Dayne's eyes did not leave his trainers, for he was an indomitable tutor, and gave the boys no rest. Arthur Dayne was a mystery to Alysanne. He was probably the most gifted swordsman alive, and he was always courteous, but not over the top as most were south of the neck. He was silent, only speaking when needed, but he carried a weight about it, that made him seem older.

Dacey was of the opinion that Ser Arthur hid behind his silences and Ser Oswell under his jest, but both wear masks. And guilt. _A lot of guilt._

The griffin lord also had his eyes on the fight, he had come from the captain's quarters, where he and the Rhaenys were seen arguing once again. About what, none could say.

Jon Connington was a completely different animal that she couldn't even try to understand. Not even Dacey. But she had her opinion. _He's a male version of your mother._

Alysanne did not think her love meant it was a compliment.

* * *

She smiled as Obara Sand threw a spear at her, and from the corner of her dark brown eyes, she could see the sharp eyes of Dacey, as she herself trained against Domeric Bolton who was trying to avenge his embarrassing defeat from the previous morning. _Next time cousin, don't lose your foot just because a pretty girl appears on the deck_.

They had practiced until Alysanne counted the third defeated, no time did she managed to defeat her. She no longer felt the pressure of inferiority, it brought her in the beginning. She had seen it in Pentos, only one person had defeated Obara with a lance, and that was Prince Oberyn. And if Ser Arthur was the best swordsman, Prince Oberyn sure was unparalleled with a lance.

"You're making fewer mistakes." The grumpy Obara said as a way to finished their practice before she went to probably beat and bloody Daemon Sand.

"That is the large compliment coming from Obara. The best one you shall get Lady Alysanne." Princess Daenerys said, offering her a goblet of lemon water.

"Thank you, Princess."

The woman-child smiled at her, and Alysanne could see why Domeric looked like a fool when around her. Covered in the colorful silks of Dorne, but in the scandalous style of Pentos, that somehow she could still pass as not being provocative, for her body was still clinging to its youth figure, the Princess still showed the beauty she would grow into, leaving most green boys tongue-tied. Even now, a deck away, Domeric gazed at her with a dreamy expression that was sickening. _Mother would box his ear if he knew of his behavior_. _Or drag Dom and his princess to a heart tree. Maybe, she would even set a foot in a sept so no one would context that her favorite nephew wed a princess._

Domeric could do worse. Aly remembered that pretty flower with no thorns watching her half-brother and the largest number of Northerners embark on since the time of the Wandering Wolf, moon ago in White Harbor.

Lady Sansa Stark had clearly taken the opportunity to leave Winterfell walls, and act like White Harbor was King's Landing and she the princess. She had done her hair in braids of the south, dressed in its fashion as well. The heavy Tully theme of the clothes showed they had probably belonged or been inspired by the dresses of her mother. She looked like an outcast who seemed to look at the noble of the north as if they were the savages the south so like to call them.

And gods, she had been forced to speak with the fish at the ball. Lord Manderly hosted a large celebration in his Mermaid Court before they left and the girl was so utterly boring and futile. Bethy was a proper lady, but she also knew how to run a household better than Aly ever would, and could have a conversation about more than clothes and princes and pretty stories.

The red-haired had been idiot enough to say to Willa Manderly and her equal clever but more restrained sister, Wynafrai, how she rarely prayed to the Old Gods preferring the Sept and the faithful teaching of her Septa. Sure the Manderly's followed the religion of the south, but each Lady Stark of Manderly blood converted fully to the Old Gods and each boy and girl learned to respect the gods and the old customs. And they sure as well did not dressed and fashioned their hair like southrons. Well, Willa was a bit of a wildcard with her green hair, that she somehow managed to make it appear proper.

And to say such a thing in a room full of North lords and ladies. And Wynafrai played her like a fiddler. Sansa Stark spurn tale after tale of House Tully great accomplishments, and proved to know a great deal of history- of the _south_! If she didn't love Dacey and was faithful to her, she would have kissed the oldest Manderly girl for her little plot, and the entertainment it provided her.

It was shocking that bold Willa didn't knock some truths into the girl. If mother was there she would have laughed at what Rickard Stark's south ambitions did to his house. No wonder everyone was betrothing their sons and daughters to others, everyone knew Lady Tully wanted 'proper' south marriages for her children.

Alysanne Dustin had been exasperated at such disrespect to the costumes of the north, and how Lady Tully seemed to think her children above marriage to Northerners (almost as much as when she heard about the Sept in Winterfell), but she had imagined the spiteful gleeful way her mother probably felt. All Rickard Stark Southern Ambitions did was made her mother influence in the north even larger than Lady Catelyn Tully's. After all, it had been to Lady Barbrey Ryswell-Dustin, all ladies and their daughters had turned too for inspiration, and Domeric had not been the only foster child her mother had in Barrowtown. Willa and Alys Karstark were going to join Bethany now that she was alone without female company. And knowing Lady Dustin soon would have pages to keep her company now that she did not have Domeric.

"Obara must be in heaven at having found a worthy adversary of our gender with of noble blood." The deep but feminine tone came from behind her, but she didn't need to turn to see who it was. "I fear my uncle will lose his oldest daughter to Bear Island."

"Lady Maege would welcome another daughter with open arms." Wendel Manderly spoke, as he had accompanied the ship captain to the upper deck.

If Rhaenys was here, Vaenor Velaryon was at the helm, as she trusted no other with it. That she left it when it was her schedule time be at command, made her pick of companion important. Rhaenys was not one to fail in her duties for a simply joyful conversation.

 _Watch her Aly. That woman will rule one day, and we have the opportunity to put our name in the pages of history_. _Be her ally. Be her confidant_. Her mother had asked of her, but the last part of the task was daunting. While the hidden queen and her mother had gotten along as old friends after two days of knowing each other, Alysanne had little of the woman's confidence. Few did.

Aly had observed like her mother had taught her and asked of her.

Rhaenys Targaryen had more beauty than one should be allowed, especially with her wits. She was much more delicate looking than her cousin, Princess Arianne, but more seductive than Daenerys Targaryen. The perfect mix of both Valyria and Rhoyne. But she knew how to play to people's expectations of her. Clad in a simple green gown whose skirts flowed like the winds to give her all the movement she desired, and a painted vest of brown leather with wildlife in greens, whites, and gold, the braided crown of dark hair that the heir of Barrowtown associated with her was held with pins of carved wood _._

"She is a woman with a path, and I don't think it simply being the queen of Westeros." Dacey had whispered to her some nights prior and she couldn't help but agree.

 _But what does she want?_

"But Lady Aysanne would prefer if my cousin did not take Nym with her," she said with a slightly teasing tone. Somehow it seemed out of place. Wendel Manderly laughed not unkindly. But the Manderly's always played the courtiers. "Worry not, Nym is all teasing, she would not get in the way of a true partnership." The slight sharpness in Manderly's eyes showed that he had his father's shrewdness. _Someone was looking for a partnership with dragons as well._

"Like my cousin and your aunt, or your brother and Princess Arianne."

"Yes, this ship is full of blooming love."

The woman's plump lips turned into a smile that reminded Alysanne of a cat. "I can say I was surprised by how Domeric connected with Daenerys. But we shall find you a lady as well Ser Wendel, or perhaps a male lover?" The second son blushed heavily under the regal woman attention.

Turning to the couple in question, Alysanne couldn't help her smile as she watched Domeric teaching his princess how to play the harp. Not his harp, she easily noticed the silver-stringed harp, carved in ivory, the shapes like flames. Even Alysanne could see such an object would be costly. What surprised her was how tense Rhaenys had become, her hands were fists in the handrail, and her pale violet eyes turned darker and haunted.

"Excuse me." The woman said sharply, turning back and leaving them as swift as Dacey fought.

"Prince Rhaegar was well known for his love of the harp." The Manderly offered her, probably seeing the confusion on her face. "I was present at Harrenhal. My brother's wife was with child for the first time and he did not want to leave her side, so my father sent me to go in their place. The prince famously played a song that made all the ladies of the realm wish to be his lady love. I would beat my bow that that harp belonged to the prince."

"It did." Lady Nym spoke, joining them with Arianna whose arm was wrapped around a Jon Snow to truly looked like he wished not to be dragged into this conversation but at the same time wanted to know more. "And Dany should know better than to bring it with her." She spoke before following her cousin's path.

The Princess of Dorne whispered something to the not-bastard of Eddard Stark who looked at her with a thankful expression and asked something in return. This time, Alysanne was able to hear the reply, even if she didn't understand half.

"She was very good. She used to play when we were children, back in Tyrosh. Griff used to bed her song after song when they were wed, and she agreed because she knew he was on his deathbed. But I haven't seen her play since. Not even Dany can convince her to play or sing again."

* * *

That night she replied the conversation to Dacey.

"If Prince Rhaegar enjoyed music so much and that is in fact his harp, with all that happened at Harrenhal is no wonder she doesn't like it."

"I think we can add, Prince Rhaegar as a pressure point." Alysanne had whispered in the quiet of their chambers.

"Even Lyanna would pick that." Alysanne raised an eyebrow. "Wrong sister to bring up?"

"You're terrible," Alysanne said with a smile.

Dacey pulled her into a kiss, and they almost fell off the bed when the ship moved, probably hitting some wave.

"I cannot wait to touch land again."

"You hear them at dinner, my grumpy bear, we'll be in Volantis in less than two days."

"You think we'll have another ball?"

"I sure hope not. I want to see the city, not dance in front of pretty lords and their prettier ladies."

"Can't be pretty than those in Lys." Alysanne had remembered the Targaryen looking people in the soft silks with melodically voices. She had hated them. Most of the men, however, could not have been seen most of the three days the spent in the 'isle of pleasures', as Princess Arianne had called to a blushing Jon. "Do you think Princess Arianne dragged Jon Snow to one of the so-called pillow houses?"

"I hope so, the boy blushes more than a maid in her wedding night," Dacey too had dragged her to one of the pleasure houses, but not one made to betray your lovers, but rather to learn how to please each other,Alysanne would be lying if she said she did not find it worth the red faces. "If Prince Oberyn had come with us your bet Jon Snow would no longer be green. That man makes me question my love for you."

"Jon Snow?" She said teasingly while tracing a finger up Dacey's spine.

"Oberyn Martell."

"I believe that is why the gods put in this world."

"Well, they were very inspired that day," Dacey said, before kissing her neck. "What did you find today?"

"Manderly is plotting with Rhaenys."

"He's a Manderly it is in his blood. Think he wants a marriage?"

"Haven't they tried it before? Last time the princess died before the wedding. Besides can you see a woman like Rhaenys marrying the loud and boisterous second son who I think one day will be as fat as his father? She already has a fair-haired man warming her bed."

"Speaking of men who made me doubt my love, is there any marriage between Velaryon's and Martells?"

"Not that I know off. See this is what Beth should have come. She would recite us the entire family tree."

"I have no desire to get naked with your sister."

"Neither she with you. She has her eyes on Hornwood."

"The boy or the castle?"

She raised an eyebrow in reply. "Both."

"Is that why our bruised the poor boy during your match."

"He must be drilled into not forgetting I can crush him if he hurts Beth, I will not have my sister shamed."

"You are incredibly delicious when you act all protective, Warms a certain part of my body."

Alysanne blushed.

"Are we sure you're not related to Jon Snow?"

"Everyone is related to everyone"

After some silence and gentle touches, Alysanne spoke about the beginning of their conversation once again.

"Arianne Martell said she used to play to someone named Griff. I doubt it was Connington since he is dead."

Dacey's green eyes looked at her surprised. "You don't know. Rhaenys was wed before. The boy they spoke of was her husband."

"I thought she was always involved with Vaenor. Didn't they knew each other since they were swaling babes?"

"Yes, but when she became a maid, she married another," Dacey said, sleepily.

 _Who would Rhaenys wed, if not the one she loved?_

* * *

Rhaenys Targaryen dressed in night robes and walked out of her chambers, letting the cold night air calm her down. She could feel the agitation of her dragon as she set him free into the ocean. _I wish I could run away as well._ As she watched the moon, she reached into the robe and pulled out a sealed scroll. The black lion stood up, a sword across his back, she could almost feel the wickedness. Such a waste of a sigil. She had gotten the parchment in Lys from a pretty slave with green eyes and silver hair, dressed like a damned pirate. _You might not like your brother, but you sure know how to play with one's emotions._ Finally gathering the courage that lacked in the last days, she broke the seal. The old, unspoken language was written in perfect flowery writing that almost made her roll her eyes. There was nothing flowery about the words, however.

 _Word around town, well river, that our friend was last heard to being seen in Isle of Toads. I cannot confirm it, but our friends in Volantis might. Trust him to be mad enough to set a foot in_ _Sothoryos. And without us._

 _I can confirm that the Warlocks were not happy with your diplomacy, despite how flaming I thought it was. Be careful of the sorrowful man, I would hate to shed a tear for you._

 _If I can, I'll meet you downriver. Ditch the pretty boy, you know I like to be the prettiest in the party. I don't do northern either. And the Dornish don't like my blood, can't think why._

 _If I don't appear and you need me, you know where to find me, you sent me there after all._

 _Don't send a raven, I might kill it out of spite._

 _The only lion you like._

 _Did you like the pretty boy, I sent you? His eyes aren't as bright as mine, I know._

She threw the letter in the air and allowed Aeraves to burn it. And finally, the dark shadow appeared.

"Spider's report?" Connington asked. The look in his eyes told her he got as much sleep as she did.

 _I know what haunts me, but what truly keeps you awake Jon?_

"Petyr Baelish work as the master of coin seemed to be better than we expected. They were able to withhold from asking the Iron Bank another loan. He's proving himself cleverer than even Varys predicted."

"He is non-important; when war comes he'll either by loyal to those who gave him a place or turn to our banner. He may be clever, but he doesn't have the birth or the skill of arms to truly be worthy of much thought. Look at what his time in the Riverrun proved."

"You're an idiot if you think that. Illyrio and Myrio don't need a sword or status to be of danger. Varys came from nothing and look where he is now. And his time in Riverrun allowed him to be in favor with the Arryns. It was Jon Arryn who put in the small council, and I would bet his place before did not come without help."

"So, he's bedding Lysa Tully, what of it."

"Jon Arryn isn't one to be fooled. His honor would demand he set her aside. She would be accused of adultery and the gods know what else."

"Serves her and her father well. Hoster Tully may be playing the sick old man now, but he won a foot in the north and a disgraced daughter wed to the Hand. His grandsons will rule have at least three high seats. It was his treason that signed the outcome of the war." They stood in silence for some heartbeats, until Jon finally made the connection. "Is the Arryn boy as much as Jon Arryn son as those bastards of Cersei?"

She gave him a cutting smile.

"We should use this."

"It's too soon, won't be ready for at least two years. And I am no Bittersteel."

* * *

 **Author Note** : I finally published my other story, it is under the name "And Now My Watch Begins" it would mean the world to me if you checked it out, to see if you liked me to continue.

 **ElyzabetShardlake:** Not a lot of friction yet, more of a build-in chapter, as I wanted to bring out a different opinion. I hope to make the next chapter for fast-paced. I'm pleased to enjoy Domeric and Dany, in my mind, they are perfect for one another.

 **Valen Goncalvez:** Thank you, and I apologize for the slow update.

 **The G'ddam Dark Knight** : As I have said previously, Arianne Martell and Daemon

 **Morgan** : I also never saw it before, so one more reason to write it. It just feels like they would connect much more than Sansa and Domeric, even if I see where the idea of the fans comes from. Domeric in a way can be its own original character as we have little information on him. Yes, Willas is Tom Hiddleston, and he shall always be. Dany will be a big focus on my story as well, but she won't be going mad, mostly because she won't go through all the suffering she went in canon. I actually can and would like Mad Queen in the books, not because it has been teased, but because it would be amazing to see a character that was so purely good when we first meet her, crack under the pressure of life. But it was to be well-build and explained. Not just simply because she 'snapped'. I won't even speak of Jaime, one of my favorite characters, and its end, as character assassination it's up there with Stannis and the Martell family.

 **Force Smuggler** : Jon might not be a player of the game, but he is no fool, and he will not be screwed over if he fails it will be his own undoing. Rhaenys won't go mad Rhaenys like Show Dany, because I hate what happened. A person doesn't burn a city all suddenly. Roose Bolton will not hurt a hair out of Rhaenys pretty face when he finds out about Domeric courting a Targaryen princess. Trust me, he'll be silently screaming Team Targaryen, and plotting in their favor… is that good? Probably not. It's Roose. And don't forget the "Martell bastards" saved his precious heir and killed his troublesome bastard son. A lot will happen before they return to the lands of Westeros that will make their return even more interesting. Jon's reveal will be in true literature fashion, what is all I can promise. White Walkers will be slowly built, or not since Rhaenys knows more than she lets on about what is north of the wall. Yes the Dornish feelings about Lyanna will cause tension later on, but not between Jon and Rhaenys as neither wants to be compared to them. Well, Elia and Rhaella are well-loved by both. Yes, we will get Arianne's POV in two chapters. Euron is currently very busy. But he is a pirate and they are at the sea ; )

 **Zukafew119:** I am so glad Dany and Domeric were so well accepted, and your reflection on them brought a huge smile on my face because it was exactly how I see it. And Mothers Are Important, no matter if they are dead or alive. I cannot promise fast updates but I promise that it won't go in hiatus. Thank you for your kind words and well-wishes.

 **Diana:** Roose Bolton will be very proud of his son, well, not as of it as he did not wed the princess. Roose will demand, icy and without raising his voice, to know why. Was it the lack of Heart Trees? He'll order someone to plant more. Rhaella and Bethany already have a long list of baby names. Yes, the status of Domeric in comparison to Dany will come up, but they are currently my favorite writing couple, so they won't break. Yes, I am a writer who picks favorites. All mother deserve voices. Especially those easily forgotten.


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